Remnant Chronicles
by Aemeneol Aetherisch
Summary: There is greatness in all of us. For some, it shows itself when we need it the most. For others, It surfaces when we are surrounded by those we care and trust. In the world of Remnant, where its history is filled with heroes honored within the annals of time, a new generation must heed the call, lest they let their world succumb to the darkness that seeks to return. (OC warning)
1. Prologue

Prologue – Dragoon

At the genesis, there was but dust and darkness. From dust they came, Humankind was born into the world. Remnant, they called it. They learned, grew, and advanced in their ways. But from the darkness, came the Grimm. They were sinister, evil, malevolent creatures, which preyed upon humanity. For a time, it seemed as though all was lost. But Humankind found a weapon that would allow them to repel their predators. Dust they called, it, from whence they came, the power to create, and to destroy.

With it, they challenged the Grimm. Nature's Wrath descended upon their aggressors, and the Grimm were forced back into the darkness from which they'd crawled out. With their newfound peace, Humankind built even greater kingdoms, with the power which they had discovered. They ushered into an age of technomagical prosperity. Their kingdoms grew, and they forged a path all of their own in their harsh, unforgiving world.

But there is balance in all things. The moment light burns at its brightest, does it cast the darkest of shadows.

* * *

"El."

No reply.

"Elwyn."

He shifted in his seated stupor.

"Elwyn. We're at the site."

A beat passed. "I'm up, old man," Elwyn groaned, his green eyes fluttering open. He lifted his head and saw his father leaning over him. The old man's eyes were sunken into their sockets, looking slightly bulged because of the crooked spectacles he wore. His father stepped back to give him space. Elwyn stood up, stretching and cracking his joints. "We here already?"

"Get going, we need to check back and cross reference the data as soon as possible."

"Right, gotcha," _Always work with you, _Elwyn thought. He scratched the back of his tousled brown hair, yawning right after. A few moments later his father handed him a lance looking weapon. It was a dull, silver color, with a large glowing cylinder near a tonfa grip halfway down the shaft and near the lance-tip. The cylinder looked similar to ones you'd find on a revolver, except larger, and each chamber filled with Dust instead of a bullet. He grabbed the 'lance' by its tonfa grip, where a gauntlet connected to the shaft began to wrap around his forearm, a mechanical hiss signaling that everything was locked and in order, sending a jolt through his arm. "Interface seems fine." He said as he made swinging and stabbing motions. He hefted the pilebunker around. Light enough, he supposed.

"Get," his father said flatly.

"Alright already, geez," he growled. He flicked his arm forward and back abruptly, cocking the pilebunker in the process with a loud metallic clack. He made a motion with his right hand, and the tonfa handle retreated. The pilebunker compressed itself into a smaller form, which rested below his forearm, hanging by the gauntlet.

Elwyn stood over a launch hatch. The Nevermore was probably directly below them at this point. Atlas didn't really cut corners with stealth systems in their transports. But it would only take a few more seconds before it sensed their presence. A loud shriek told them it already had. Without another word, the hatch in front of him hissed opened. He peered down, and sure enough, a large, black shape was flying below them. Rather, toward them. He jumped down through the hatch with some hesitation.

_Just like the simulators, just like the simulators, _he repeated over and over to himself as he fell through the sky. Below them was a vast field that spread in all directions. His admiration for the spectacle was cut short by the Grimm shooting up at him. Up close, the Nevermore glowed sinisterly in the afternoon sunlight. This one was larger than their transport ship, and honestly, it was a little terrifying if he were to face it alone. He felt his breath catch a few times under his breathing mask. Thankfully he wasn't alone.

A loud explosion filled his ears, along with the sight of the Nevermore getting bombarded by grenades. Several grey shapes appeared around him, three of Atlas' prototype models for a new line of androids. The prototypes took out their rifles and began to shoot at the disgruntled Nevermore, who was now ready to strike at these pesky insects that had disturbed its flight. It started to fall, its back towards the ground below, and shoot at its assailants with razor-sharp feathers. They launched off the Nevermore like bullets, causing Elwyn to fling his body weight to one side to avoid being skewered. Two of the prototype droids managed to get through the initial volley, but the last one was sliced cleanly in half. _Strike one for evasional judgment, _he thought. He streamlined himself, and readied his pilebunker, bring his arm back and ready to strike. _I can do this._

The pilebunker deployed from its box-like stasis, the gauntlet now extending modular pieces of armor which acted as shock absorbers up along his arm, in order to absorb the massive recoil from the weapon. One thing he was slightly thankful for, despite his old man being an absolute dictator when it came to testing out new weapons was that there was never a dull moment in his life ever since he turned 17. Because his father was a researcher and weapons developer for Atlas, he was often called upon to test out possible new equipment for the military and the academy back in Atlas. Why his father insisted on his son be the one to test possibly volatile equipment, he had no idea. But hey, whatever works.

He landed on the Nevermore's head. It wasn't too pleased with that. They were several more meters from the ground when the Nevermore decided to swoop back up again into the sky. He lost his balance and was sent tumbling over. He was back in a free-fall, looking up as the Nevermore started to fly away. He stayed as calm as he could, breathing rapidly into his mask. He shifted his weight. A few more moments and would wind up as a stain on the ground. He aimed his pilebunker towards the Nevermore. He grabbed the pilebunker by the rear shaft, and pushed hard. The main body transformed into the shape of a crossbow, the lance tip aimed directly at the Nevermore. He pulled a trigger on the tonfa handle, and the lance launched through the air, a sturdy metal wire connecting it to the main body. He hit his mark.

The Nevermore was too busy dealing with the other two pests to sense that it was not rid of the third. It had sliced one of the prototypes in two once more with its projecticle talons, before ripping apart the last one with its powerful beak. It was a split second later that it sensed something flying towards it. It looked back out of instinct, and found a lance pierce through one side of its bony faceplate. The Nevermore shrieked, jerking and flailing in mid-air, confused at its loss of eyesight. Elwyn clicked the trigger on the tonfa-handle again. He was jerked violently forward and went sailing through the air, just before he splattered on the ground below. The shock absorbers on his arm had worked. If it hadn't been there, his arm would have probably been ripped clean off the socket. He readied the pilebunker, loaded since he jumped the free-fall. As soon as the lance's metal tether was fully retracted into the main body, he growled and fired the pilebunker as it was lodged into the thrashing Nevermore. The Red Dust ignited, and a large explosion engulfed the Nevermore from within.

It exploded fantastically, fizzling electricity arcing through the air as the Nevermore fell back toward the ground. Where the head had once been, was left an array of wires and circuitry, decapitated and bleeding machine oil. He had to hand it to Atlas engineers. It was a realistic depiction of a Nevermore, as far as he could tell. As he rode the robot-Nevermore's carcass as it crashed to the ground, he braced for impact. The test was over now.

* * *

As he hopped off the mangled robot-Nevermore's body, he took off his breathing mask. Jumping from high altitudes gave him a certain rush he couldn't explain. He breathed in deeply, and saw his transport ship starting to make round. "I think the prototypes need some adjustment," he called out. His father was standing near the side hatch of one of them, clearly looking displeased. _Great what did I screw up this time?_

As his father's transport landed, he all but ignored Elwyn and went straight to some mangled remains of the prototypes he had sent out. He was sure that he got the algorithm for their movements correct. Was it a hiccup? Did something interfere with their sensors? High altitude perhaps? These thoughts raced through his mind as his son watched on, rolling his eyes and walking towards the remains of the fake Nevermore. The scientists at the research institute said Nevermores were actually much more durable than their creation, but the basic attack patterns and principles remained the same. They needed quick and accessible data for various weapons and prototypes, so they decided that each of the Grimm replicas they had were just a tad more vulnerable. They would do cross-referencing to actual Grimm data later. He looked back at the battle, and tried to think of ways that the Nevermore could be more realistic. It had these robotic tells and cricks every now and then, such as pausing slightly mid-flight or between each volley of talons. Programming their attack patterns could only go so far as of now, especially with something as large as a Nevermore. An Ursa or a Beowulf, perhaps, but a Nevermore was a different entity altogether-

Elwyn shook his head to clear it. Now he was thinking like his father. He had nothing against the man. He'd taken him in when he was younger, after which he was enrolled into the hunter training academy at Atlas. For whatever reason, he didn't know, maybe to prepare him for testing all of these new weapons. He looked at the pilebunker on his right arm. It was called the Dust-Integrated-Pilebunker-System, or D.I.P.S. (Deeps) as he liked to call it. Whatever the reason, he enjoyed the feeling of the fight though. It was something that kept him going, it made him feel useful. He was orphaned early, by what he can't really remember, but it made him feel like he had no place in the world. And he'd always dreamed of becoming a hunter. That much he remembered. After four years of academy training however, he was pulled out. He wasn't a horrible hunter, he was above average in multiple respects. Maybe his father really was just planning to use him as a weapons tester. Not that he was complaining. It did put his dreams of huntership on hold though.

"Some kinks to work out," he heard his father call out from behind him. "But you did good, kid."

Elwyn cracked a small laugh. He really couldn't hope to fully understand his father any time soon, but that was alright for him. He walked up next to his father. "A lot better than the last one. I didn't dislocate my shoulder on this one," he said, showing off the improved pilebunker he still had mounted on his right arm.

His father gave a dry chuckle. "At this point it's not even a pilebunker anymore."

Elwyn looked thoughtful for a moment. "Lancebunker? Pilelance?"

A moment of silence, and a shrug. It didn't really matter to his father what he named it. As long as it was in working order. As for the prototypes cyborgs that were to replace the AK-130s, they still needed to work out some problems with the programming. For the most part, they had done what they came here to do.

It was amazing that they found a private area of land for their testing purposes. Then again, with the amount of money Atlas puts into its military expenses, it was probably a cakewalk for them to find this… or acquire it through other means. While they were part of the Atlasian Military, they were far from territorial waters. In order to keep these tests on the hush hush, they had to move their facility and research team. As of now, they were within the territory of the Kingdom of Vale.

"Beacon is in Vale, right?" Elwyn asked, he and his father boarded a their transport vehicle, a Quezacoatl high speed transport plane, the same one they were riding half an hour earlier before the testing began. His father looked nonchalantly at the notes that he'd gathered.

"That Hunter academy, yes?" he answered almost absent mindedly. "If I recall right, by airship it wouldn't be too far south of here."

_Wonder what it would be like…_ Elwyn's mind started to drift. Beacon was an academy from which all of the top and famous hunters and huntresses come from. "Maybe one day," he whispered hopefully. As the jet vertically took off, there was a loud beeping that came from one of the onboard communication nodes. His father took his eyes off his research and went up to the node. He hovered his hand over it, and a screen showed a stream of information. It was an emergency coded broadcast. Elwyn got up from his seat and looked at the screen.

"What is it?"

"A Schnee Company Transport Train sent out a distress signal just now. It's under attack," his father paused a bit, deciphering the runes more. "Biometrics scans of the AK-130s confirm the intruders are Faunus. It could be the White Fang," he finished. He input some commands to a console. The Quezacoatl rose higher. The vessel started to swivel towards the south. They were headed to the attack site.

Elwyn caught his breath. "We're going to intercept them? _The _White Fang, and we're going to try and intercept them?" He croaked. He knew much about the organization. They were radical Faunus, who used violence to try and gain equality for the Faunus in a Human-centric world. At one point, he knew that the White Fang were peaceful. But now their leader was hell-bent on bringing about equality, one way or the other.

He also knew for a fact that these people were professionally trained fighters and assassins. He'd had combat training at the Atlas Academy, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to fight professionals, let alone terrorists. He remembered, however, that he owed a great deal to the Schnee family. Well, not him personally, but the company helped supply the Atlasian military with the Dust they needed. They also provided funding for the more… covert cells of the military. Such as the one he and his father belonged to.

"We're still part of the military. I've already asked for a recovery team to take care of the test site," his father said sternly. He scanned the screen that popped up. More data had entered the flow. Another communication broadcast, this time from their Headquarters itself. "The closest units have already been required to sortie. We're the closest patrol that train's got."

_I've had a good life, _he thought morbidly. The Quezacoatl took off with a burst of speed. If they hadn't braced themselves in their seats beforehand, they would've been flung to the back of the craft. Through the windows he spied their destination: The Foreverfall Forest. There was a clear divide between the Northern Plains from where they'd come and the Foreverfall. The rust-red trees extended over hills, plains, and mountains as far as the eye could see. Through a low-slung valley clearing winded a huge pathway, a railroad that trains, from passenger to cargo, took in order to avoid the imminent dangers in the forest, such as the Grimm. They'd soon catch up to their target in a little over a minute.

Elwyn donned his actual combat clothing now as the aircraft reached cruising speed. A white military coat with a pauldron on both shoulders and Kevlar padding across the chest. He wore a visor that extended from the earpiece, leaving his lower face exposed but encompassing his jawline. His pants remained the same, black cargo pants that were made of durable material. He stepped his favorite pair of boots into some modular armor tech, which would help with his landing. He equipped his pilelance, already allowing the modular armor creep up his arm and attach to the pauldron. He disconnected the lance from the gauntlet, and wielded it like he would a spear, gripping it along the shaft. The handle extended to accustom itself to the new mode. When he rested the butt end of the shaft on the ground, the lance was a little under a head taller than his 5 foot 10 stature.

"Ready to initiate Dragoon drop," he called out to his father. His father looked away from the ship controls for a moment. It was his own idea to give a name to how he entered the battlefield. He'd heard Dragoon was what greatly skilled lancers were called a long time ago.

"10 seconds," was all his father replied with.

Elwyn cocked the tonfa grip, loading the next revolver shell into the tip of the lance, ready to fire the Blue Dust at any time. The hatch opened a second time that day. The sunset showered the forest with a dull, orange glow, making the forest even more beautiful than it had minutes before. The train was below them now. He saw ruins of AK-130s strewn across its surface. 5 more seconds.

"If it gets dangerous, get out of there. At least we can say we tried."

Elwyn merely nodded, before jumping from the Quezacoatl. Second free-fall of the day. The wind rushed him as he fell from the airship. It was a good feeling, so much so that whenever he practiced his 'Jump', he wished that he could fly. Or at least, fall with style.

The fall from the airship took a second or two before he was about to land on one of the train cars. The airship had to fly high to avoid the mountains on either side of the valley. One thing they taught you at Atlas academy: shock-troop deployment. Because of Atlas' technology, their hunters had ways of entering battlefields in creative ways. Shot from a cannon? Sure. Riding a high tech jet? No problem. Free falling from a few hundred feet above ground? Piece of cake. Whatever their aesthetic, students were allowed to choose from a variety of situations that they could practice on, as electives. You never know, right? In a world where most people he knew could scale the height of a building in a few seconds by running or where one could undermine the laws of physics on a whim, what he was doing wasn't that much of a long shot in the first place. So Elwyn took up the art of HALO jumping. Given this particular jump wasn't that high in the first place.

They always thought he was crazy for wanting to master something like this. Not that he didn't wind up with a few broken bones early on. But he got better at it. Eventually. In the few seconds it took for him to drop down, he aimed his lance at the surface of the train car. A moment before landing, he loosed a shot from his lance. The force exerted by the explosion of Ice Dust was enough to cushion his fall, and he landed safely with a flourish.

"Yeah, that felt good," he praised himself. He heard a click sound from his helmet. His father contacted him via radio.

"The mountains get choppy up ahead. I'll be seeing you on the other side."

"Roger that."

"And kid," a beat passed. "Good luck."

_Yeah, that's what you say to your kid when you allow him to fight professional terrorists. Thanks dad_. He started his way forward, entering one of the train cars. Multiple AK-130s lay in ruin, lying in their own spent shell-casings. They'd all been sliced in one way or another.

"Guess someone took a sword to a gunfight," he chuckled. Obviously he was nervous at this point. Whoever could take down an entire contingent of AK-130s meant business. His visor's scanners picked up movement. Someone was rushing at him. On impulse, he raised his lance in defense. He felt a weapon collide with the handle of his lance. The force sent him reeling backwards slightly. He was met with another series of blows. He blocked one after the other, trying to gain some ground. He clashed with his assailant's weapon, bracing himself, before deflecting it violently. His assailant flipped backwards, landing gracefully.

_Definitely not what I was expecting a terrorist to look like._

He went into a stance, pointing the lance straight forward.

"Leave, and I'll guarantee your safety," he heard her call out. A pair of amber eyes locked onto his. They were calculating, calm… sad. Her pupils seemed to form slits as far as he could tell. It was distinct in their low-lit conditions. A cat Faunus?

"No can do, Kitty," he started, trying to sound authoritative. "On behalf of the Atlasian Military I order you to stand down or face charges of trespassing and theft on Schnee company property."

If he could hear an audible crack in someone's demeanor, her narrowing eyes would have probably been it. He heard it like a thunderstrike. She was angry. Was it the Kitty? She braced backwards, before lunging at him at full speed, brandishing her jet-black katana at him. Not seeing any other choice, he decided to meet her offense with his own.

_It was probably the Kitty._

* * *

_**So. Uh. Yeah. This is happening now.**_

_**Forgive me if I'll indulge myself in this series.**_

_**The OC bait is… much too strong for me to resist. **_

_**Do tell me if ever my character exhudes a certain… Sue-ish quality.**_

_**Cheers.**_

_**I hope this lasts.**_


	2. Chapter 1: Cat and Bull

Chapter 1: Cat and Bull

If there was any doubt that he was able to go toe to toe with a terrorist, this fight would put those thoughts to rest. In a good way. Sort of. One thing that really bugged him was how she managed to fight with that magnificent head of hair of hers.

While he was finding some even ground fighting Kitty, it wasn't like he was winning either. At least all those years of training at the academy weren't just for show. To say the least, he felt pride swelling within him. Maybe he wasn't that far off at becoming a hunter. Well, if he died here, that little dream would be cut short. But hey, he'd go down fighting, right?

…

No, I'm going to live.

_I want to live._

Fear was something that gripped him right now. Despite the fear, he pushed onwards. Either it was bravery or foolishness, but it helped him keep on his toes. A quick horizontal swipe. Guard. An overhead smash. Guard. Roll away. Keep my defenses up. It was a little difficult, considering they were swinging at each other at around three strikes in the span of a second. Through their fight there was some sort of understood respect for one another, well, after he'd called her 'Kitty'.

It went on unsaid, as his lance clashed with her blade, as he blocked a bullet with his gauntlet. He prided himself in his defense. But he couldn't strike.

It was the fear.

If he tried to strike, and he left an opening, that would be it. He was content at delaying it as long as he could. He tried to urge his body to do something other than his routine blocks, but he faltered too much to do anything about it.

Their dance continued. She was always on the offensive. Even if he'd found an opening, could he take it? As one of his instructors said, a powerful, lion Faunus: "Offense is the greatest defense". Her strikes were precise, fluid, seamless. At times, he was entranced by it, like it was a dance that he didn't want to end, because ending it would mean that one of them would die. It was probably going to be him.

* * *

She didn't want to kill him. Well, she did at first because of that 'Kitty' remark, but not anymore. To an extent. The boy had put up a good fight so far. He was young, probably her age. She kept him on the defensive. His style had some kinks, but his defenses were solid, like he was used to being on the 'losing end'. Did that make sense? Not to get ahead of herself, but she was proficient fighter. She'd fought Adam to a standstill multiple times.

Maybe he was holding back for her.

The thought made her internally shudder.

She wasn't planning on this little distraction. She planned to go with Adam and 'hijack' the train, only to cut off his escape and leave him in the middle of the Foreverfall. Perhaps if she had asked Adam to check out the noise, she would be gone by now. But he was planning on setting the charges and killing everyone aboard. When she saw the Quezacoatl fly overhead, she knew Adam would have killed anyone who'd stepped off the plane. She said she'd take care of it.

A small side of her wanted him to give up already. Despite the fact that she had started to respect his skills in the short time they clashed, he'd put a delay on her plans to escape. If she took too long, Adam would check up on her. It was now or never.

* * *

Their weapons became a whirling cacophony of clashing metal as neither one let up on the other. The girl's technique with the Katana was too quick for him to find any sort of opening without leaving his own defenses to suffer. The visor helped him track her lightning quick movements. It constantly fed him with data that he tried to process as fast as he could. Data on how she would strike and when, at what angle, in which intervals. It bogged down his mind just trying to take it all in. His father said that with enough data he would be unstoppable. But some things you just couldn't calculate on happening.

He'd gotten careless. He wasn't expecting her fighting style to change dramatically. The moment he saw some sort of ribbon tied to her weapon, he questioned himself for a moment. He definitely wasn't seeing things. He saw her transform the Katana into a pistol-sickle multiple times, but this time was different.

It was tied to piece of ribbon attached to her arm. She threw it right at him. He leaned backwards to evade the sudden attack. Then he heard a gunshot. The katana in its pistol form recoiled back right at him. He reacted as fast as he could, dropping to the ground. The blade nicked his visor. It was sliced in half, barely missing his nose for a split second. The visor chirped and whirred, broken technology fizzling and shutting down. There goes all that data. Before he could think of what he could do again he felt a hand grab him by the collar violently. He'd let his guard down again. In the moments that he could have recovered, his mind was stuck on his broken visor. She used her momentum to lift him high enough to deliver a fierce kick to his abdomen. It knocked the wind right out of him. He was flung backwards, back into the open area of the first train car he'd landed on.

That was stupid. Really stupid of him. Why didn't she finish him off though? Maybe she wasn't expecting him to drop his guard so suddenly and went with what she could.

_Of course not. She's a professional. Is she still toying with me? _He wondered in frustration. Here he was, on the cool, metal flooring of a Schnee company transport train, and all he could wonder was why the terrorist didn't kill him. It was so surreal. He shouldn't have been alive right now. His mind raced for an answer. He was still alive, so he could still fight. But what could he do now without the visor to track her movements?

He thought back to his days in the academy. He'd never needed the visor before. He's fought people as fast as her, as far as he could remember. When did he start relying so much on that visor? Probably since his father always wanted him to wear it during weapons testing. This wasn't weapons testing though. It was already destroyed anyway, so any argument for it would be moot.

Don't think.

Feel.

It was something that his instructors at the Atlas Academy had always told him. It was pretty cliché, he knew that. But there was some truth to it, otherwise why would professionals like them always tell students that?

When it came to matters of life and death, your instincts will serve you better than anything that you could put on paper. This was definitely a matter of life and death by now. Changing attack patterns probably meant she was done toying with him. As he lay there on the ground, almost exhausted, he felt a second wind coming.

He laughed a little. Then a lot. He couldn't see it, but his opponent looked at him curiously.

_Did I break him? _She thought.

He flipped backwards, landing on his feet. He clicked a switch on the side of his head, and the visor split in two, resting on either side of his face and revealing his eyes, which trailed to a structure behind her.

She wasn't about to give him any breathing room, and she charged him head on. His green eyes locked onto her amber orbs. Without saying another word, he jumped high.

The train went under an overpass. She overshot and tried to regain her balance. She skidded along the metal flooring. She was ready to follow him and looked up. Darkness suddenly filled her vision. The overpass made her lose sight of him.

One Mississippi. As he sailed above the overpass, he cocked the tonfa handle and readied his trigger finger. It was pretty serene up in the air, nothing but the rumbling of the train and the sound of the wind rushing around him. The moment he saw the distinct shape of that black bow she wore, he readied himself. Two Mississippi. He aimed the lance at her and fired. The Red Dust ignited at the rear end of the handle, propelling him forward abruptly. He cocked the tonfa handle again.

Three Mississippi. She saw the ignition of Red Dust high in the air. She was still skidding to a halt when she decided to dive out of the way. He landed right where she'd been, piercing through the metal flooring of the train car and sent a rumble throughout the train.

She dusted herself off, going back into a stance. "Not too shabby," she started. "Too bad you missed."

He locked eyes with her again. "You're not the only one with tricks, Kitty."

He'd definitely heard her growl before he fired his pilelance once more. Yellow Dust made contact with the metal surface. Electricity arced its way through in a cone area in front of him. She was right in the line of fire. She screamed, equal amounts of surprise and pain. She'd underestimated his weapon. She should've known by the glow that it was Dust-operated. She felt her consciousness fade from the shock, the only thing on her mind was that she was going to get back at him for calling her Kitty again. The girl slumped forwards, and he caught her before she could hit the metal flooring.

It was a miracle that his gambit paid off. He probably wouldn't be able to pull it off a second time. _Like there's going to _be_ a second time. _He thought grimly.

He caught a whiff of what seemed to be perfume.

_So terrorists wear perfume, huh? _He thought. Up close she did look young, somewhere around his age. She had graceful features, but it belied power and athleticism. She was, in technicality, a soldier, just like him. Some would think it odd, but even now hunters and soldiers as young as teenagers were already being commissioned. It was a fact that tensions were escalating, not only with the Grimm, but also with the White Fang, so it was normal at this point that even teenagers were on the front lines. It was unfortunate that the people in power couldn't see things eye to eye. He carried her inside of the car that they'd fought in previously propped her against a wall. He gave her a respectful salute before continuing through the train cars. She was good, but there was no way she could have handled this operation alone.

_Look who's talking, lucky-face, _he berated himself.

Two cars in, and around a thirty or more dead AK-130s later, a loud explosion caught his attention. It was right after one other car. He checked inside and saw Dust had been scattered everywhere and a large hole was blasted through the other side of the shipping crate. He saw two figures, a large, mechanical one, and another that looked human, fighting outside. As he rushed to the opening, he realized it was an AK-135 Arakne Droid, fighting what looked like a man with a katana.

_What was with these people and katanas? _He thought. He jumped the gap and was planning to aid the Arakne Droid, but it had already begun to setup its particle cannon. The bright light it gave off made him wince, and the roar of the shot was enough to make his ears ring. For a moment, he felt sorry for whoever was at the receiving end of that. _Whoever that guy is, he's as good as-_

The bright light of the particle cannon dissipated almost as fast as it began. In the distance, he saw a masked man, his blade slightly unsheathed. He was glowing with power.

To say that Elwyn was shocked was like saying that his father liked science. It just wasn't comparable. The masked man had just absorbed god knows how many kilowatts of power, and he was _unscathed_. He could see the man smirk confidently as the Arakne lunged at him.

* * *

One swing.

One swing of the blade, and the Arakne disintegrated like nothing had been there in the first place.

The man had redirected all of that power, and used it for himself.

He was definitely in an entirely different league.

Panic began to rise in Elwyn. He had to face this monster alone. _Damn, damn, damn, _he repeated in his head, over and over. He gulped hard. It took a moment before the man noticed him. Upon closer inspection, it looked like he had horns.

The masked man looked at him with disinterest. "Well well, you managed to get past Blake?"

_Was that her name? _Elwyn thought. He shook off his hesitation and pointed his pilelance at the man. "In the name of the Atlasian Army, I demand you cease and desist at once and be taken into custody."

The masked man looked thoughtful for a moment, as if he were seriously considering the offer.

"Tempting," he began. A smirk spread across his features. "But I think I'll pass."

The feeling of getting the butt end of a katana hit you on the chest at the speed of a bullet was something Elwyn would remember for a long while. The man's movements were much faster than Blake's. The moment the katana collided with his abdomen, he'd already been kicked from behind, sending him flying forwards. He thrashed in mid-air, trying to gain some balance. He righted himself before he crashed into the floor, and he landed kneeling on one leg. The masked man was already on him. He needed to gain some space and recover. In a quick motion, he mounted the pilelance onto his arm and jabbed forward quickly, using the momentum to arm the Dust. Some Red Dust should do the trick. _Laying my cards out right at the start._

"If you would kindly lay off for a second," Elwyn growled. The masked man was about to strike again when the tip of the pilelance exploded. He thought he managed to get him then.

The crazy bastard sliced through the Dust explosion. Elwyn didn't know if it was skill, the material of the Katana or what, but this was just ridiculous. It was a good point that he'd already adopted a CQC stance. He wouldn't be able to defend himself with the lance at this range. Despite its bulk, the pilelance wasn't heavy enough to slow him down. He _has_ trained with this type of weapon for a long while. He jerked his head backwards, the masked man's Katana grazing his cheek and drawing blood. On reflex, he weaved right, and threw a violent uppercut with his pilelance. His fist was abruptly halted by the masked man's sheath. He pulled a trigger, this time good old fashioned hydraulics taking place over Dust technology. The lance extended forward violently and abruptly. He heard a crack coming from the masked man's sheath. In a moment he triggered the hydraulics again. This time the man was sent flying upwards.

Elwyn followed through. He jumped high, following the masked man's trajectory. He went higher than his opponent, and with the pilebunker aimed for the heart, he pulled the trigger.

A flash of red filled his eyesight. He felt it connect, to be sure. The man flew backwards back onto the train car. He saw the katana right in front of him in a defensive position, and a smirk across the man's face.

* * *

Adam Taurus was a very skilled assassin. He'd been part of the White Fang for many years now, and he's fought his fair share of hunters and Grimm. The boy in front of him was no different. He was little rough around the edges, sure. Not to mention he was human. But he could feel that he was fighting for his life.

It excited him to know that the kid's life was in his hands.

He'd been trying to get a feel for the kid's fighting style. As far as Adam could tell, he was very aggressive, with an over reliance on his one and only hard-hitting weapon. _Too closed-minded,_ he thought. If he truly wanted to master it, he would have needed to become more creative than 'punch and crunch'. How he managed to get past Blake, he could ponder on later. She probably wasn't expecting the Dust. She was careless like that sometimes. As he descended, having defended against the kid's last attack, he looked upwards. The kid had unattached his pilebunker and wielded it like a lance.

_Nice gimmick. _Adam thought. Compared to Blake however he left himself a lot more open. Had she been soft on him? She'd been acting strange lately. When he mentioned that he would set the charges for the transport, she'd looked worried. Did she actually care for the humans on board? Preposterous. These thoughts lightly treaded his mind as he parried and blocked the kid's swings and thrusts.

They were back on the ground, back in their little melee. The strikes were fast, sure. They were also telegraphed. It was a very mechanical fighting style, something that the Atlasian Military would have probably thought up. Calculated strikes, in a pattern, the most 'efficient' way to fight an opponent. It was all too elementary for him. He'd let a hit or two get him, feigning him breaking through his defenses. It seemed to keep his spirits up. Didn't want to let the prey tire out too quickly. The mountains were still close together on either side of the valley. His transport wouldn't be able to save him when Adam decided to stop playing around.

If the kid were really smart, he'd mixup his thrusts with Dust emissions and sudden triggers of the pilebunker's- lancebunker's?- hydraulics to keep him guessing. But he wasn't. He was too green, and could only think of a single attack pattern at once. Sort of like Blake sometimes. They were both young and fiery, with a need to prove they were competent.

Adam kept parrying and blocking strikes with his ninjato. Every once in a while, he'd fire off a shot from Blush, his rifle-sheath. The kid either managed to block or let the bullet graze him. He had guts at least. Adam would enjoy crushing his spirit, and every other bone in his body.

He jumped backwards. It was getting late. The sun had already set, and Adam wanted to finish the job already. He sheathed his ninjato and adopted his signature iaido stance. Obviously, the kid took the bait, not knowing what he was preparing for, or perhaps, just forgetting that little spectacle with the Spider Droid. Adam heard the click of the lancebunker being loaded with Dust. He smirked.

* * *

Elwyn thought he had gained some ground on the man, just like he did with Blake. But there was something different in their clashes, something more… hostile. Each clash felt like the man could have turned it around then and there. It was different from his fight with Blake. Each parry filled with contempt, each block filled with derision. If Blake had been toying with him, this guy was plain laughing at him, holding back on purpose. He could see the subtle smirk the masked man had whenever he'd land a blow on him.

_I'm not stupid. _He thought. The masked man jumped backwards, his hand over his sheathed katana in a stance. His back was turned to the giant hole that the Arakne made with its particle cannon earlier. _Why don't you just kill me already dammit. _He armed the pilelance with White Dust, mounting it on his arm again in one swift motion.

"STOP TOYING WITH ME!" Elwyn roared as he raised his pilelance, using his left arm to transform it into its crossbow form. The man raised his katana to block. A handle extended from further up the shaft he grabbed it with his left hand, bringing it down to the left side of the gauntlet. He pulled the trigger and White Dust ignited, sending a blinding beam of light right at the masked man. It collided with the katana. Elwyn cocked the lever with his left hand and triggered his pilelance several more times. The only other thing he could hear other than the White Dust emitting the laser was the screech of the modular armor as it kept up with the recoil from his pilelance and the spent Dust casing that hit the metal flooring. With each blast, he saw the katana absorb more and more of the power. The masked man glowed red sinisterly.

Elwyn cursed in realization. In his frustration he forgot about what the man could do with that katana. He'd unloaded the entire shell of White Dust.

It was all going to get redirected back at him.

In a split second he adopted a defensive stance, crossing his arms in front of him. A loud crackle of energy began to emanate from the masked man. He was glowing rather brightly now.

"If you say so," came the man's arrogant reply.

A bright white light. Then someone grabbing onto the collar of his uniform right before a wave of energy managed to slam itself into him.

* * *

Adam felt a rush. All that Dust that connected with Wilt's blade was delicious. He felt the power inside of him grow exponentially. He'd give the kid what he wanted. It would be a quick death, unfortunately. He wouldn't be able to see the look on his face when he died. He would be disintegrated on the spot.

He sheathed his blade once more after the last volley had been shot. He glowed with power. He prepared to swing forward. As he did, something hit him from behind. It knocked him off balance. His aim became off. He'd swung downwards at an angle instead of directly in front of him. The energy sliced through the train car. He felt the metal give instantly. A powerful white flash that was too close even for his comfort enveloped the entire area. In a moment, he saw what happened.

He'd sliced the car he was on in two. The section that was still connected to the lead car was intact enough to continue along the tracks. It was already a ways away. On the other side, he saw the kid on the ground, with a stupid look on his face. The kid couldn't believe he just survived.

_Adam _couldn't believe the kid survived.

He saw another figure standing beside the kid, her figure all too familiar for him to mistake it.

Blake mouthed a goodbye as the lead-car further separated from the rest. What was left of the car he was on eventually halted, leaving him behind.

In the quiet serenity of the night, Adam began to laugh.

* * *

He felt his life literally flash before his eyes.

He got careless and it almost cost him his life.

Funny, he'd just asked the guy why he didn't go ahead and kill him already.

He looked to his left. Standing beside him, with sadness in her eyes, was Blake. She'd saved him from being ripped apart by his own foolishness. Why?

"Ki-" he caught himself. "Blake?"

She looked at him with a fierce expression. "How do you know my name?" she growled.

He got up with some trouble. His legs felt like jell-o. "The guy mentioned it," He said, motioning back. The segment that had been sliced off disappeared around a corner. She stared daggers into him.

"Yeah, well don't call me that. We're not friends," she turned and walked towards the lead car.

Her tone stung. It's not like it wasn't true. Not too long ago, they were trying to kill each other. She hopped to the lead car section, and he silently followed her. They walked in silence for a few moments.

"Thank you," he finally said. "For saving me."

She stopped in her tracks. "You're welcome," she said, not looking back.

Before they reached the entrance to the next car, he called for her to stop. She looked around, curiosity on her face. "What?"

He pointed to the crooked bow that displayed her cat ears. They'd twitched slightly when she turned around. It was kind of endearing. "Those are all Schnee Employees in there."

She got what he meant. It was probably already reported that the White Fang were attacking the transport train. Having a Faunus show up all of a sudden would probably be a little too dangerous. She reached up to her bow and felt for it. It was probably knocked around slightly after that attack by Adam. She went off to one corner and tried to fix it, but without a mirror she couldn't get it quite right.

"Here," she heard from behind her. The boy fixed her bow for her, delicately placing the cloth so that it covered her cat ears from both sides. "There, it doesn't show now."

She turned around and looked at him like he'd grown another head. "Why are you helping me?"

"You saved my life. I think fixing your bow is the least I can do," he said plainly. Truth be told, he was still a little anxious. She could kill him at any moment if she wanted to. So far, she didn't, which he was thankful for. If he tried to fight back, it wouldn't do him any good. His pilelance was all but mangled. It must have gotten nicked by the masked man's attack. "Will he be coming after you?"

"What?"

"The masked man."

"Ah," she hesitated. "I'll be alright, you won't have to worry about Adam," she finished. She looked at the entrance to the lead car, before deciding to sit down against a few crates near them. She didn't want to face anyone else for now, let alone questioning humans.

There was fondness, and sadness, in how she said his name, he noticed. He went over to sit near her, keeping a healthy distance. He sat on another side of the crate, facing the side of the valley that the Cracked Moon could be seen from. The soft glow was reflecting off of the rust-red trees. It was a beautiful night.

"May I formally know the name of my savior?" He asked absent-mindedly. There was a few moments of silence. He peeked over his shoulder at her. She was unmoving.

_That's fine, I guess. It _was _a weird question to ask. _He thought.

"Blake," she said suddenly. "Blake Belladonna," a beat passed before she continued. "You?"

He smiled, although she didn't see it.

"Sorry for calling you Kitty," he started.

He heard an annoyed mewl. "Name?" she asked impatiently.

"Elwyn," he replied, looking at the beautiful, glowing moon. "Elwyn Albion."

* * *

_**Here's Chapter 1 all of sudden, because of the sudden reviews. My update schedule will probably be erratic, but I hope I can submit at least once a week. That's my goal for now.**_

_**Hope this was to people's standards, and thank you to those who reviewed. It's a nice feeling especially since I just got back from a however many month long hiatus from submitting anything. **_

_**In reply to one of the reviews, I've got something planned about how the team system works at Beacon. Since this **_**is **_**a fan-story, I may make changes here and there, nothing too drastic, at least I think. **_

_**Stay cool, gents and gentleladies. **_


	3. Chapter 2: Derailed

Chapter 2 – Derailed

The Schnee employees were very skeptical when Elwyn said he was from the Atlasian Militar and that Blake was his partner. First of all, he didn't even have his ID on him. He remembered placing it down next to his seat on the Quezacoatl and forgetting to pocket it again before he dropped. Very careless of him, but what's done is done. Or wasn't done. Second, Blake wasn't wearing a uniform. He was, but they were cautious in saying that he could have just stolen it. The employees were right to be paranoid given that their transport had just been attacked, but it was starting to get on his nerves, and there were only three of them. It had been a long night, and he just wanted to sit down and drink a cup of hot chocolate or something. The train probably had it. The passenger car they were on was a lush and pompous, homey sort of thing, nothing like you'd expect from a cargo train. But hey, the Schnee company had free reign of what they would do for their assets. If they wanted a bowling alley, they would probably place it there.

"Can we just knock them out please?" Blake whispered harshly. The Faunus girl was starting to get a migraine from all the incessant questioning. Not that they weren't misplaced. She _was _part of the White Fang barely an hour ago. Before Blake could even attempt to make a move, they were shoved in a room with a laser-gate, one of the three employees saying that 'their identities would be confirmed once they got to Vale, and this was only a precaution'.

Elwyn poked at it curiously with his broken pilelance. Energy arced through the metal and shocked his arm. He let out a growl in surprise and annoyance. As he turned around Blake looked at him with a raised eyebrow. _'Really?' _was plastered all over her face. He merely shrugged. His left hand reached up for the communication node on the left side of his visor. Nothing but static. It was too damaged to try and contact his father. He'd told Blake he would try every five minutes. She was skeptical about it. Sure enough, around fifteen minutes passed and still nothing from his father.

"Shouldn't he be checking up on you and hailing the train by now?" she asked, swinging her legs while she sat. The cell wasn't a five-star hotel, but the seats were comfortable at least. The laser gate barred their exit, but she was already tracing the power-lines into the walls, trying to get a feel of how she could go about deactivating it from the inside.

"Not really," he replied, slumping down near her. "We had this silent agreement that if I didn't contact him, I was fine."

"That's stupid," she looked at him judgingly. "For all he knows you're dead by now."

He met her gaze with his own. He made a little face that said '_… Actually. You're right, I guess.' And shrugged again. _"Eh."

"Some soldier you are."

"I'm not _technically_ part of the military, actually," he admitted. He looked around, as if anyone who would hear it would immediately say 'Aha!' and arrest him on the spot. No one did. Maybe the cell was sound proof. "I trained at a hunter academy in Atlas. I'm only _part _of the military because my father is a weapons researcher there," he looked sheepish. "So by technicality, my dad uses me to test weapons for the military, but I'm not conscripted. They allow me to participate in drills and exercises though, because my dad needed me to be in shape for weapons testing."

She regarded him for a moment. His attack patterns, she remembered, while having that stiff, systematic, military feel to it (except for that jump. She's never seen anyone from the military do that), did have some personal flavor. Hunter-Huntresses and the Military all underwent combat training, but the Military was taught to work in large platoons, acting as a single cell. Hunter-Huntresses worked in smaller groups and had personal fighting styles that they molded to work well with their teammates. Not to undermine the Military, but a few teams of Hunter-Huntresses with their unorthodox fighting styles could easily route a Military regiment, or so she's heard.

She wanted to become a Huntress, but not because of that. It was something more personal, something grounded on her beliefs.

"Your fighting style's a lot stiffer than a Hunter's though."

"Ugh," he said, exasperated. "I knew joining all those drills were dulling my style."

"Style huh?" she laughed a little, before continuing, a glint in her eyes. "You should really get out of the military business, become a Hunter, I bet you'd be great," She didn't know why she was encouraging someone she'd just met. Maybe she just needed someone to confide in. She'd just made a huge decision in life leaving the White Fang like that, and she wanted to vent. "I was planning to apply for Beacon academy once I got to Vale."

He blinked at the statement. "I dunno if you've heard or not, but, you don't really _'apply' _for Beacon. You need to have graduated from an Academy with high honors, by recommendation, or hand-picked as a testament to an instructor witnessing your skill. The last one rarely happens."

Blake leaned back, looking at the ceiling. It was true. She'd heard that before already. _Guess I didn't really think this through, huh? _She looked at him, a lightbulb pinging imaginarily above her bow. "I most certainly haven't graduated, but haven't you?" She gazed at him expectantly, hope renewed in her eyes. _It's not like me to ask favors like this, but I'll take what I can get. _"Maybe you could, I dunno, put in a good word for me?"

Her large amber orbs swallowed him whole. It was like he was under a spotlight at a theater performance, and literally, all eyes were on him. He didn't want to say what he was about to say, but he didn't want to get her hopes up over nothing. Meeting her gaze, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

"I never got to graduate, unfortunately," right then and there he saw her deflate. It was like kicking a puppy, or a kitten in this case. "My father pulled me out a few weeks before I did. Kinda sucked, really."

If he could see her ears right now, they'd be drooping a bit. Her options were running thin. If she were really desperate, she'd have some of her old comrades stage a fight in Vale. Given if those comrades were willing to help her with something like this. Hey guys, could you help me get into Beacon Academy? I want to become a Huntress. Oh, and I betrayed the White Fang, hope that's cool with you guys.

Yeah, probably not happening.

"You said you were _technically _part of the military, right?"

"Like I said before," he paused for a moment. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. He'd bite. "Sure, why not. Why?"

"Wouldn't that be enough to let you apply to Beacon? I mean, you've been training and everything."

"I could if I would, really," he sighed. "My father doesn't really approve of me becoming a Hunter. Says it's a glorified life. That and the Military and the Academies aren't exactly on the best of terms."

Blake's ears perked up. "What do you mean?"

Elwyn looked around the room again, rechecking if there were any surveillance equipment. None that he could visibly see. "Just like I said. They're not on the best of terms. A lot of the Soldiers I've spoken with think that Hunter-Huntresses are nothing but show boaters. They're the ones getting the praises all the time while the Military stands back and takes care of things on the down low. They don't think it's fair."

It wasn't a sentiment that he shared. Some people were just selfish that way, he thought. They wanted to be praised for doing their duty to the people. In retrospect, he wanted to become a Hunter neither for the glory nor the notion of protecting the world. It was a lot simpler than that.

He wanted to Hunt. That was it. The knowledge that what he wanted to do caused him to save others was just a plus factor. _Guess I'm selfish in my own way._

Blake looked toward the laser door. Her eyes were set on it, but her gaze went further, looking contemplative. "Humans have in-fighting too, huh?"

He shrugged, laughing unironically. "I think it's a universal thing."

* * *

A noise startled him. Elwyn's eyes fluttered open. How long had they been on the train? He spied Blake on one side of the couch curled up. They must have fallen asleep from the fatigue. He got up and stretched. He heard a distinct noise to his side, a low, reverberating sound. It was coming from Blake. Purring? He listened intently again. Soft Rrrrs permeated the silence. Yep, definitely purring. A temptation akin to petting a stray cat you knew would kill you arose in him. The temptation was strong, backed by the cloudy-minded grogginess of having just woken up. But he won in the end.

He took note of the ruined pilelance on his right arm to get him thinking again. Might as well keep his mind on something while he waited. He fiddled with the components, and found that it was salvageable somewhat, or it looked like it, anyway. The damage was more or less superficial. Well, hopefully. He snapped a few of the moving parts back into place. He actually wasn't sure on the maintenance of the weapon. He was more used to maintaining his old Fragor Spicas from his time at the Atlas Academy. His father based the concept of the pilelance on his old pair of D.I.P.S., trying to make the concept stronger and more versatile. Truth be told, he thought it became needlessly complicated. But his father enjoyed creating new things, and he was just happy to test things out.

After a few more little clicks and whirrs, the pilelance did what he was almost expecting it to do.

Fall apart.

"Ah."

The gauntlet fell apart from around his right arm and fell to the floor, the rest of the weapon going with it. The resulting collision made several metallic clanks. Blake jerked awake, looking around attentively like an actual cat would if they were disturbed from their rest. She groaned groggily.

"What the heck were you doing?" she asked as she started to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

"Trying to fix it," he replied sheepishly, sifting through the parts. For the most of it, the lance was still in-tact, so at least he had that going for him. He lifted it up and plinked it cautiously against a wall. Seems like it would hold. A lightbulb popped above his head. It was probably the fatigue, but he was desperate enough to find out if it would work.

"Stand back for a bit."

"What are you-"

Before she could utter another word Elwyn loaded his weapon. It screeched in protest, but it managed to load a cartridge. Blake tried to protest further.

"I don't think-"

"Me neither."

Elwyn fired Yellow Dust into the laser-gate. The lightning that ignited from the Dust collided with the gate. A few seconds and a whole lot of lights fluctuating later, the gate dissipated. The devices that had kept the gate alive sparked and slowly silenced in defeat, some parts falling onto the floor and clinking with electricity. He could feel static coming from his clothing. When he looked back, Blake's hair was slightly frizzled and floating, before settling down again. He shrugged at her with an apologetic look. She on the other hand let out an exasperated breath.

"Whatever works, I guess," she fluffed her hair back to normal.

"After you," he motioned towards the door.

"How are we going to explain escaping from the cell?" Blake asked as she stepped over the remnants of the laser-gate. Elwyn paused to ponder on it.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," he said finally. "I just don't like enclosed spaces."

The moment that they exited the cell room, they thought something wasn't right. There was this lingering feeling in the air. And a very distinct smell. Unlike the previous cargo cars, the passenger cars were connected via an airlock of sorts between each car, probably to trap the air conditioning in. It also worked to connect the three cars' exhausts, and it carried it all the way to the last car. For Blake, it was clear as crystal, though she didn't want to admit it. It made her stomach churn thinking where it could have come from.

She smelled blood.

Elwyn noticed her stiffen. "What's wrong?"

Blake turned to him and whispered, her expression urgent. "I smell blood."

It took a few moments before he realized she wasn't joking. She didn't have any reason to in the first place. His vision suddenly narrowed. The cell they'd just exited was on the far end of the first of a few passenger cars that accompanied the cargo. Around two more were ahead of them. The corridor that lead to the next car lacked any sort of light source aside from the moonlight that shone through the windows to their left, running along the passenger car from end to end. Did shorting circuiting the gate do that? He readied his pilelance just in case. Blake withdrew her katana while it was still in its sheath. He noticed it looked like a giant cleaver. It gleamed in the moonlight, a wicked metal-black.

They proceeded forward cautiously, the shadows of the landscape around them changing constantly as the train continued to make its way to Vale. The mechanical door that lead to the next passenger car hissed open. The sight startled the two of them. They both had some nerve one way or the other, but seeing something like this was utterly surreal.

One of the Schnee Dust Company employees lay on his back. He was lying in a pool of his own blood. An arm was missing right at the socket, and something had mauled his face to hell and back. It was an unrecognizable stump on his neck. The blinking passenger car lights accentuated the atmosphere. It looked like what a bad fever dream would be. Elwyn felt yesterday's lunch churn in his stomach. Blake powered on.

"What the hell?" He whispered harshly. They approached the corpse. Blake felt for the body temp. Still warm.

"Must've happened while we were asleep."

_Was that the noise that woke me up? _"What the hell could have done _that_?"

The claw marks were very distinct. Blake recognized them.

"Beowolf."

His blood turned to ice at the mention of the name. "A Grimm? On board the train?" Not too far from their location, the sound of breaking glass startled them. They looked to their right. It was a metal door like what connected the train cars, and the man's blood trail lead under it. Blake motioned for Elwyn to keep quiet and follow her. He obliged, facing his back to hers, guarding her flank. Beowolves weren't too much of a challenge on their own, but in a confined space they would be at a disadvantage. The door hissed open. Blinking lights highlighted the inside of the small room. It looked like a lab.

"Well, definitely not what I was expecting," Blake whispered. Elwyn looked over his shoulder.

"What the heck is a portable lab doing on a Dust Cargo Train?"

"Maybe we could ask him," she said, motioning back to the corpse.

"Funny," Not really.

They found the source of the glass. And another body. It wasn't as mauled as the corpse outside, but the jugular had been ripped hastily. He was stuck in a perpetual look of disbelief at what had just happened to him. Behind him was what looked like a containment tank that was hooked up to several Dust cylinders that had broken, spilling the shards around the area. The fluid that was once in the tank had spilled out. It smelled organic and heady and made Blake's senses go into overdrive. A migraine followed. "Whatever was in there is gone now," she said, trying to fight the dizziness. "Can we get out of here?"

Just as they were about to leave and look around the other rooms, they heard a sound. It was more of a howl really. An angry howl, loud and clear as the moonlight, coming from the lead passenger car. They nodded to each other and bolted for the next car. Whatever it was, it was killing civilians and had to be stopped. If it was a Beowolf, they could take it.

The next door hissed open, and they found themselves in the lead car. It was a spacious area, unlike the last two cars which had the living quarters (and portable lab, apparently) taking up most of one side of the car. This was the control center of the train. Lights and controls ran flush alongside each wall, the controls that took charge of the AK-130s, the row of machines only ever stopping to allow a window or two of moonlight to shine through. The last scientist lay in the hands of their monster. A Beowolf had a vice grip on the scientist's body. She squirmed as the air was forced out of her. She noticed the two of them had come through the doorway. She called out in a rasp.

"G-get out of here!"

Blake and Elwyn were in action before she could finish. The Beowolf was too preoccupied with the scientist, and they took the opportunity to force it off her. Blake slashed at the Beowolf's powerful arms. Her blade met its mark, but it didn't cut all the way through. The dense bone-matter prevented a clean cut. It was enough that the Beowolf roared out in pain, and lost its grip on the scientist. Elwyn scooped her with left arm and bounded backwards. He propped the woman against a row of consoles and looked back at Blake as she kept the Beowolf at bay. Thankfully the car was much wider and taller than the previous two cars, and she managed to play keep away with the beast while still going for its arms. With two well-placed strikes, the Beowolf's forearms tore from their connecting ligaments. The beast roared and flailed, jumping backwards to escape Blake's assault. She backed off as well. She knew a cornered animal fought at its most feral. She retreated to be beside Elwyn and the scientist woman, ready to engage again if needed.

The woman looked up at the two of them with urgent eyes. "You have to get out of here," she started, coughing in intervals. "I need to terminate this car, the Beowolf mustn't be allowed to escape…!"

Elwyn knelt down next to the scientist. Her tag read Lucrea. Behind them the Beowolf was still backing into a corner, roaring and barking at them. "What do you mean?" He didn't understand how one Beowolf was worth blowing the train up. "We can kill it right here and now."

Lucrea grabbed him by the collar. Her eyes were plastered with stark panic. "You've already begun to enrage it. A little more and-"

As if on cue, the Beowolf let out a terrible roar once more. Its body began to glow red, the area around it seemingly starting to melt. Lucrea scrambled to her feet and punched a button on the console. The metal door behind them hissed open, and she shoved Blake and Elwyn through the hatch, both of them letting out a cry of surprise. Before exiting she clicked another button on the threshold of the way out. A high-pitched beeping sounded, mixing with the Beowolf's cries, getting louder and louder. They scrambled through the doorway, Blake almost tripping over Elwyn. Lucrea followed right as the door slammed shut.

"What the hell was that for?" Elwyn shouted. He felt the rumble of the passenger car as a reply. They looked to the clear glass window on the metal door. The two of them saw the lead car inching away. The car they were on had been detached. The sight mesmerized them for some reason, and he and Blake watched as the lead car got further and further.

Before it burst into an inferno.

The shock from the blast rocked them. The car came close to teetering off one edge of the train-tracks, before settling down again. All the while Lucrea had sat up against the metal door, closing her eyes like it was all one big nightmare that she would wake up from. She got up slowly and peered out the glass window with them. She waited a few moments. The burning debris from the lead car slowed to a melted halt. Sparks screeched and embers soared as she tried to get a good look if she'd gotten her mark.

They were greeted by two glowing-red eyes. The fire seemed to bulge out and distend, before spraling into the Beowolf, disappearing into it. The Beowolf stood there, glowing an angry crimson. Its severed hands were replaced with an outline of one made of flames. It sniffed at the air, appearing to have lost interest in its earlier assailants. It gave off another howl, before it sped off along the train tracks, bounding high into the sky, using the flames as a means of temporary propulsion, before landing and repeating the process. In a short time, it became a glowing red blip in the distance. Lucrea leaned her head against the glass window, muttering something incoherently under her breath.

Elwyn looked to Blake. She nodded and tapped Lucrea on the shoulder. "I think you owe us an explanation," Blake said firmly. Lucrea turned around and took a deep breath.

"Before I continue," she said, her voice shaky. "You need to promise me that the two of you will pursue that Beowolf. It has to be stopped."

* * *

Lucrea shifted in her sleep. They'd been on the railways for a few hours now, coming from an outpost far east of Vale. It seemed like only yesterday that they were flying in from Atlas to pick up the specimen.

When she first heard of it, she and her team were skeptical. Barton thought it was just a hoax. Jameson wanted to go anyway to see, just in case, if the rumors were true. Lucrea herself was curious. In all her years as a biological researcher for Atlas, she hadn't once heard of anything like it. The Grimm were a very mysterious race, true, and not much was known of them. So the first time they'd heard of the report, they were skeptical. Rather more aptly put, they were in denial.

They got off the Dustplane that day at daybreak. They landed near a mining area, where the Schnee Dust Company had been burrowing into Remnant to continue their acquisition of Dust.

Dust was an odd thing. Despite humanity knowing its fundamentals and how it could be used to power things from weapons to transport and even to cities, the underlying history of the mineral was shrouded. It was something that they could not just crack. Research over the course of thousands of years have only hypothesized its origins. Nothing concrete, just assumptions that perhaps it was the energy of life itself crystallized, that it came from outer space, that some omnipotent being had granted it onto humanity to aid them in the fight against the Grimm. That kind of stuff. But they were all just theories in the end. To this day, it was always regarded as this all-encompassing mystery that they didn't necessarily have to solve. Maybe Dust just was.

But the fact that Dust _was _what set humanity apart from the Grimm was something that humanity had taken pride in. It was a weapon, and a resource, that the Grimm couldn't hope to understand, to manipulate.

They thought that until today.

Lucrea and her colleagues stepped off the Dustplane expecting it to be a farmer having hallucinations. But then if it were the case, why were they called down? The Atlasian soldiers that guarded the perimeter didn't make it seem like a joke. Maybe it was real. A tall man, gaunt soldier went up to the three of them and saluted.

"Acting General Tully, 6th Shock Troop Division of the Atlasian Military, at your service," he said, saluting with his Dust Rifle. Lucrea's group saluted back. She tucked her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair behind her ear and adjusted the spectacles that framed her auburn eyes.

"Acting General?" she asked.

"General Kalashnikov was killed in the skirmish to capture the beast," Tully said darkly. "The General had underestimated it. We mourn his loss, but we must act fast."

_A beast strong enough to take down an Atlasian Military General? _She thought. Generals in the Atlasian military were basically an equivalent of a Hunter-Huntress, some even were just that before starting their career. They rose through the ranks quickly due to their skill on the battlefield. He should have been more than enough to fight off the supposedly singular Beowolf they came to collect. Of course, the reports stated it was no ordinary Beowolf.

They were lead to a clearing a ways off from the mining facility. The residue of the battle that Tully mentioned happened the night before as apparent in their surroundings. The ground was scorched and tussled over in multiple areas, and the rock wall that guarded the entrance to the cavern had sections of it chunked and broken. The trail of the battle lead them to a large pillar of Dust-Ice. A section of it was missing.

"We'd managed to freeze it somehow. It was no small feat, given that it could emanate heat from itself at extremely high levels," Tully explained. Lucrea's group listened on intently. It seemed as though the rumors were true. From word of mouth, in any case. They didn't see it in action. If the rumors were true, perhaps they didn't want to.

The Beowolf was placed within a containment tank hooked up to several Dust generators that powered it. The tank was enchanted with a mixture of Dust called the Sandman, putting it in a deep sleep. It wouldn't last forever, of course. They had ample supply for now.

"The containment unit is too large for the Dustplane we rode in on," Lucrea said, eyeing it carefully. The Dustplane they'd ridden was a small, high-speed personnel carrier. It wouldn't be able to fit technology like this.

Tully looked toward the railway line not too far from the mineshaft. "We will load it up onto the next shipment of Dust headed for Vale. Once you arrive in Vale, there will be a transport Dustplane waiting for you and your team," he gave the beast one last look of contempt before saluting the three scientists. "There will be a regiment of AK-130 droids and one AK-135 Arakne for safety purposes of both the shipment and the specimen." He lowered his hand and finished. "I bid you good travels."

It was good travels for the most part. The first few hours went on without a hitch. Sometime in the afternoon however, the train was attacked by what the AK-130s had identified as two Faunus. The White Fang, no doubt. At first they thought the droids would be enough, but the life signals of each droid rapidly blinked out. They gathered in the lead passenger-car and sent out a distress signal to hail any nearby transports of their plight, even perhaps manage to get into contact once more with Acting General Tully to send in backup. They did manage to contact him, after contacting a nearby Quezacoatl that replied with its confirmation to aid them.

"Do not let them know of the experiment," Tully said over the fizzling static. The signal was getting bad around the mountains. "Who knows what rumors might spread if anyone else got wind of this. There _will _be panic," a dark look set upon his middle-aged features. He stroked his growing beard lightly, pondering on the correct way to handle the situation. A loud rumble went through the train. Something had just happened. From the onboard monitors, it read that the entirety of the Dust cargo had been severed from the lead cars. A few moments later, they saw a young man in an Atlasian uniform and a young woman with a black bow on her head. Lucrea didn't question military uniform etiquette at this point. She was just relieved that the White Fang had been dealt with.

"Seems like the unit that responded took care of the White Fang. The cargo is gone, however," Lucrea relayed.

"And the specimen?"

"Still asleep in the pod."

"Alright," Tully said finally, as if it suddenly dawned on him. "When they come in, keep them in a cell for the time being. Make it seem like you don't trust them."

Lucrea butted in. "Sir, with all due respect, wouldn't it be wiser to get the word out faster? If this is really happening on a global level, we have to sound the alarm as soon as possible."

Tully looked solemn. "That's true. But there's no need to get ahead of ourselves here. If there is panic without cause, everything will devolve into anarchy. The tensions with the White Fang have already brought the world to a tipping point," he paused a moment, before the last few words came to him.

"If the world finds out that Grimm, these creatures that we have managed to push back all these years with Dust-technology, can now also manipulate Dust for themselves, who knows what will happen?"

* * *

The two of them stood there processing the information from Lucrea. It honestly seemed like one of the most outlandish things someone could have tried to convince them of. But they'd already seen it in action, when it absorbed the flames from the burning wreck of the lead-car. The Grimm have started to gain control of Dust. Elwyn spoke up first.

"How the hell did it escape the pod then?"

Lucrea grimaces. "It could have been the Dust in its system that shortened the effective length of the Sandman. I'm not entirely sure," she starts. "But one thing is certain. They don't generate Dust. They have to feed off of it, rather, acquire it, like we do, and according to the field reports from General Tully, they need to 'recharge' after a while. Their reserves run out, just like us. But it acts like a drug to them. While they're off it they retain some of their manipulation, but they become more aggressive and immediately go for the nearest supply of Dust they can find," she shudders. "which was, as the report states, at the time, General Kalashnikov's Dust-Rifle."

Elwyn felt a chill run up his spine. He could only imagine how that went down. A sound from the outside startled the three of them. They peered out the window and saw a Quezacoatl coming down from above. "I think that's my dad's Quez," he said, relieved. The valley was spacious enough to allow the Quezacoatl passage. He primes the pilelance with the hydraulics and pounds the metal door open. Sure enough, he sees his father at the controls and a ladder extending downwards to the exit of the passenger-car.

"You said that it would be looking for a place to recharge itself," Elwyn said.

Lucrea nodded. "That's right."

"There's only one place I can think of with Dust enough to lure it away from us."

From this distance, they could already see it. If the train had continued, they'd probably have been there in less than half an hour. Its bright lights lit up the late-night sky like neon signs. Blake finally spoke up to finish Elwyn's train of thought.

"It's headed for Vale."

* * *

_**SO YEAH. **_

_**Yeah.**_

_**It's.**_

_**It's beginning to diverge.**_

_**I was planning to include the travel to Vale and the fight in this chapter but I don't want to let each chapter get too long. **_

_**So anyway, here's Chapter 2. Hope you all enjoy it. **_


	4. Chapter 3: Shadows Over Vale

Chapter 3 – Shadows Over Vale

It didn't take long for Elwyn to get his father up to speed. His father had an easy time believing it actually. It was a little more than Elwyn had hoped for. He was thankful for it, but he couldn't shake the feeling that his father had known something of this matter had already been afoot before he mentioned it to him today. Whatever the case, he agreed to fly him to Vale. Despite it being out of Atlasian territory, the Beowolf was under the Atlasian Scientist team's jurisdiction. It was their responsibility to clean up this mess now.

He walked up to Lucrea, who was strapped into a seat. She looked shaken, with a few bruises here and there, but she'd calmed down from earlier. "Doctor," he started. "Do you have any advice that can help when we engage the Beowolf later?"

She looked up with tired eyes. "Don't die?" she said dryly. Under normal circumstances Elwyn would have laughed at the inappropriate remark, perhaps. But civilians were in danger now. They had to intercept the Beowolf before it was too late. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me," she admitted. Maybe this was her default personality, devoid of the panic and worry. "All we've gathered from the reports are its abilities to manipulate fire. Other than that, I'm as much in the dark as you."

"Wonderful."

Elwyn walked over to Blake, who was strapped down to a chair next to a window. Her eyes were tired and heavy-lidded. But she was alert. She was looking outside the window at the landscape that rolled by. He stood next to her, looking out the window with her.

"Doc said she didn't know anything else. Also she seems to have an attitude," He said.

"I'd have an attitude too if I was just went through what she did."

He thought for a moment. Right, near-death experience. Watching your colleagues die. "… I guess you're right."

"Elwyn," his father said on the ship's speaker phones. "Meet me in the cockpit. I'll have a word with you."

He was wondering when it would come. He hadn't exactly confessed why he had two extra personnel in tow when he boarded the Quezacoatl. His father also didn't know why there was an urgent need to get to Vale immediately. He looked to Blake.

"I'll be right back."

He walked the short walk to the cockpit and as soon as he walked through the threshold his father locked the mechanical door behind him. Elwyn sat on the co-pilot seat and wore the pilot headset.

"So, you mind telling me something about our situation?" Elwyn heard his father say over the headset.

"The one in the doctor's coat is a-"

"Researcher for Atlas. I saw the tag. I'm talking about the other girl."

"Her name is Blake."

"And I'm guessing she's here for a playdate or something."

"You could say that."

"Elwyn."

His father's tone shifted. He was losing his patience.

"She's here to help," Elwyn said truthfully.

"Help with what exactly?"

There was a knock on the cockpit door. Elwyn looked at a monitor on screen. It was Lucrea. He looked to his father, and he simply replied by opening the door to the cockpit. Lucrea stepped inside. Her strawberry blonde hair was still a little messy. She adjusted her glasses as she stepped inside. She didn't skip a beat.

"Good evening, Sir…?" she waited for Elwyn's father to reply.

"Deakon. Albion."

"Sir Deakon, yes," she cleared her throat. "I'm sure you're wondering why your son had requested to bring us to Vale."

His father turned on cruise control and turned in his seat. "I'm listening."

"Yes, well, as a scientist of the Atlasian Military, I'm sure you've heard rumors about the Grimm recently," she said. She stared right at Deakon. "Codename Fairy Tale."

Elwyn shifted in his seat. _Fairy Tale? That's what they called it? _

"I'd heard rumors, yes," Deakon said, leaning back into his chair. "Just how true are they?"

A loud bang interrupted them. Turbulence rocked the plane, and they could hear the warning lights screaming at the controls. Deakon put on his headset. "What the hell was that?"

He was answered by a primal roar that even the Lucrea heard. The ship rocked again. It was being attacked from below. They hadn't been keeping a look out since they were focused on getting to Vale as quickly as possible. They must have overtaken their target. And since the Quezacoatl is still a Dustplane…

Deakon heard metal crunch from connecting his headset to the outside audio monitors. Something latched onto the Quezacoatl. The onboard sensors went crazy as one of the indicators showed one of the turbines were compromised.

"What in the hell…?!" Deakon pushed a few buttons and levers so that the Quezacoatl stabilized. Another shockwave ripped through the ship. At this point Elwyn got up from his seat and slammed the release button on the door. He barreled through and found Blake holding on to a seat for balance. She looked at him with a panic.

"What's going on?!"

She was answered by another explosion from the outside. The upper hull of the Quezacoatl suddenly bulged and distorted. It melted through, and the Burning Beowolf appeared in front of them, its eyes not reared on them, but downwards, right where the Quezacoatl's generator would be. In the cramped space of the Dustplane the Beowolf's ten foot frame loomed ominously, glowing with small embers of fire around it. It had gotten some of the Dust that powered the engines. Its powers were back online.

Elwyn primed his pilelance from his right arm. It screeched and clicked, still not having been repaired. It managed to finish its transformation in any case, and he cocked the priming handle before he pointed it at the Beowolf. It still cautiously smelling at the area around it. "It must have smelled the Quezacoatl," he cussed under his breath. "We have to knock it out of the plane or it'll take us all down with it."

Blake was already on the move. She took her katana, still in its sheathe and swung the cleaver at the Beowolf multiple times. It roared in annoyance. Its skin was tougher than a normal Grimm's, that was for sure. It could withstand a few hits to the same spot before you could see the skin break. Once it did, vile black liquid spewed from the wound, kind of like black _ichor_, blood of the gods. This was the blood of beasts. Blake jumped back to regroup. The Beowolf roared at her. It reared back its head. It gurgled carnally, a faint light appearing at its throat, through all the pitch-black fur.

"What's it doing?" Elwyn asked out loud, taking a stance with his pilelance. Lucrea suddenly bounded out of the cockpit and grabbed him and Blake by their collars before shouting.

"Get down!"

The Beowolf cocked its head forward and a blazing orb of flame spewed from it. Elwyn wrenched himself free from Lucrea's grasp before he let loose a bullet of Blue Dust aimed downwards. As it exited the chamber, in that split second the pile-bunker moaned and wailed. The Blue Dust exploded not a second too late, creating a wall of ice in front of them that blocked the explosion. Despite the wall, the force of the blast punched through the ice, and sent the three of them reeling backwards. Shards of ice blasted around, puncturing the walls. The explosion itself blew out the roof of the Quezacoatl. The turbulence hit them as the Beowolf was flung out of the Dustplane.

"That probably wasn't my brightest idea," Elwyn cried out as he hung on to a chair. Blake glared at him as she hung on to his waist.

"You think?!"

Lucrea hung on to Blake's arm. "This isn't the best time to have a quarrel now is it?"

Deakon's voice sounded over the inter-comm. "Brace for impact, we're crashing into Vale," he said almost too calmly.

The Quezacoatl flew past the high walls of Vale. The Dustplane skidded along the asphalt of a road, eventually screeching to a halt. The outer plating of the Dustplane was singed in some places near the two holes the Beowolf had created. One wing had snapped from the skidding, having collided with a small building and ripped off. On the inside of the vehicle Elwyn, Blake, and Lucrea got up warily. Their legs were like flimsy ribbons as they tried to regain their balance. Elwyn had been cut on the side of a seat near his right brow. Blake and Lucrea managed to avoid much injury, save for a bruise here and there. Deakon walked out to them from the cockpit, having been hurt by some debris that crashed through the windshield as they landed.

"We landed in an abandoned slum," he said plainly. Elwyn checked his body for any other injuries before he replied.

"Where'd the Beowolf go?"

A roar could be heard from the distance.

"Looks like it's still hungry." Lucrea said, gripping her arms.

Elwyn looked to his father. Deakon nodded. "We'll be fine if we leave the Quezacoatl alone," He helped Lucrea up.

"Thank you."

Deakon ignored the comment. He was too busy looking at Elwyn's pilelance. "That's in no shape to fight anymore."

Elwyn's eyes darted to the weapon on his right arm. The Dust chamber had burnt out, and the lance-tip's edge had melted a bit. When he tried to prime a Dust bullet, the lever wouldn't budge. He cussed under his breath. "Sorry, it was already pretty thrashed during the train fight."

Deakon silently went back to the cockpit.

Blake looked to Elwyn and tapped him on the shoulder. "I'll scout out ahead. You stay here with your dad and Ms. Lucrea," She said.

"I can help fight-"

"Not without a weapon you can't."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," Deakon suddenly called out from the cockpit. He returned with a large, jet-black case. He set it on the ground in front of them and clicked it open. Inside were two tonfa-like weapons tipped by a smaller version of the pilelance's spearhead. The two tonfas also had a Dust chamber similar to the pilelance, also smaller in size. Elwyn reacted quickly.

"Hey, that's," he knelt down and took the two weapons, dismounting the pilelance from his right arm. It fell with a loud clunk. He took the two tonfas in each of his arms, and flicked his forearm back and forth abruptly, priming it like he had the pilelance. The Dust chambers gave off an ethereal glow. Even Blake and Lucrea were slightly mesmerized. "You brought Frigor Spica?"

"Always be prepared, remember?"

It felt light in his arms. It felt good having it back in his grip after so long. "Thanks dad."

"Be careful out there, kid. The doctor and I will try and alert the Hunters of Beacon Academy."

Elwyn nodded and looked to Blake. "Let's go then."

The two of them bounded out of the Quezacoatl and up a shanty building. Deakon had given Elwyn a new receiver headset, and gave them some directions to the middle of the city. The small structures led higher and higher until they managed to get on top of a high rise building. Vale was a large, beautiful thing. It was their first time actually experiencing being in it. The early morning nightlife was dying down already, with barely anyone on the streets. That was a good thing. If the Beowolf would come barging in, they would be able to handle it without civilians getting in the way. Blake looked at Elwyn for a moment. He noticed her staring.

"What?"

"You had a second weapon?"

"Well," he stood up straight for the moment, looking at the tonfas on his arms. "They were my first ones, actually."

"Really now?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yep," he smiled. "They were given to me by a friend at the Atlas Academy. I wasn't too into the mechanical side of forging weapons so she gave these to me," He immediately followed up. "Mainly because I was the only one willing to spar with her. And help her with homework," His expression scrunched up. "Yeah."

She laughed a bit. They were just acquaintances, but he was so open to telling her things. She didn't know if he wasn't that bright or he was just too trusting. "And you gave it a name, too?"

A light tinge of pink graced his cheeks. "Yeah, why?"

"No need to be embarrassed, hotshot," she laughed. "I named mine too. It's called Gambol Shroud," she pointed to the katana with a giant, hollow cleaver for a sheathe on her back. "It's a Variant Ballistic Chain Scythe."

Ewlyn blinked. "It doesn't look that much like a scythe…"

She shrugged. "I'm not the one who gave it a label."

"Then who di-"

Before they could continue their little heart-warming conversation on the ethics of naming technologically advanced weapons, they heard a roar from a few blocks over. It was followed by an explosion. They nodded to each other and began to rush towards the noise. They dropped down to the sidewalk and bounded fast for the origin of explosion. Not surprisingly, as they rounded a city block corner they were met with a pair of sinister, glowing red eyes. The Beowolf almost immediately charged at them. They jumped up and over it, avoiding the bull-rush. They landed next to the Dust Shop that it had raided, 'Dust in Case'. The shop owner was knocked out on the floor. Dust crystals and sand were scattered around the establishment. When the Beowolf did a hard U-turn, they noticed its fur was covered in Dust, and some crystal fragments poked out of its maw. Some flames radiated from there, and pulsating red lines glowed in the streetlamp-lit night. Its forearms, supposedly stumps from Blake cutting them off on the train, were tipped with claws made of flame. It didn't have that back on the plane.

"I'm guessing it got its fix." Elwyn said, readying a boxer's stance.

"Probably."

Blake charged forward first, dual-wielding Gambol Shroud's sheathe and katana. The Beowolf reared its head back and spat out a bright ball of flame at her, which she dodged with ease. Elwyn somersaulted forwards and over the ball, the main body of it barely missing him. He could feel the heat pass him by, and the fire collided with the ground behind him. It exploded in a miniature infernal fire pillar.

_Probably shouldn't get hit by that, _he thought. He dashed forward, following Blake's lead. As the two of them were about to collide with the beast, it roared and emanated a sphere of hot, pressurized air around it. The contact made them yelp, and the force swatted them backwards like flies. They both crashed onto those trees that were planted on sidewalks. Elwyn groaned as he got up. He saw Blake on the opposite side of the street, trying to get her bearings.

"How many freaking abilities do you have now?!" He shouted angrily. He heard static come from his ear. He felt around for the headset his father had given him. It sounded like his father was trying to contact him. He could barely make out a voice.

"El… eaco…. Hu…ers… on th… ay…"

The headset sparked near his face and he scrambled to get it off. The blast wave from the Beowolf must have fried it. That's two headsets that he's lost in less than 24 hours. His father was going to kill him. He snapped out of his worried state and remembered the Beowolf. It roared at him, snapping its sharp fangs. He dashed forward again. The Beowolf proceeded to swipe at him with its claws. He ducked under it and unleashed a powerful but quick jab-straight into its abdomen, neutral firing his pilebunkers without Dust Bullets as the jabs landed. The Beowolf growled as it skidded back, firing off a smaller fireball, which Elwyn dodged under.

There was a mark on its stomach, where the pilebunkers met its mark. At its current setting, the pilebunkers were supposed to be enough to dent a few inches of steel plating. Whatever this Grimm was made of, they it was definitely a lot sturdier. The Beowolf dashed for him again. He swung his arm backwards preparing for a devastating straight. He miscalculated its speed, and it swung its massive arm at him, curiously, without the fire claw. He raised his left arm to block, softening the blow as he was flung away. He just realized, at its ten foot height, it was a lot larger than normal Beowolf. It also hit much harder. The mutation probably made it some sort of super-alpha.

Blake followed up from Elwyn's assault. The Beowolf growled, kicking a car in her direction. She nimbly sidestepped, and broke into a run. She jumped up and over the Beowolf, landing on its back. She attempted to impale its spine with her katana. It slightly embedded itself into its skin, before abruptly stopping, like it had hit a metal wall. The Beowolf bucked abruptly, managing to fling Blake off of itself. She landed gracefully, before looking to attack again. Elwyn bounded to her side.

"Did you notice it wasn't using its fire abilities just now?" he asked, panting. The Beowolf's pulsating red lines were dulled. After a few more moments, the red lines pulsated brightly again. Flames appeared in its maw once more as it stared at them with a predator's eyes, and the flame claws on its forearms were back.

Blake readier herself again. "So it can't keep using those abilities with impunity…"

The Beowolf opened its maw and spewed a flame in a steady stream at them, like a flamethrower. They jumped to either side. The Beowolf followed Blake's escape, while Elwyn was given free rein to attack it from the other side. He dashed forward and landed the pilebunker's lance-tip with devastating force on the Beowolf's jaw. He let a Blue Dust bullet loose. Its maw closed and froze as the Beowolf was launched slightly upwards. For a moment, it seemed like the head had been frozen for good. The body landed standing, but still. Blake was a ways away, looking dumbfounded.

"… was that really all it too-"

She was interrupted by steam coming out from the Beowolf's body. The ice started to melt. Within a few more moments the ice melted away completely, and the Beowolf let out a charged roar, sending a fiery sphere of energy around it. If it wasn't already angry before, it sure as hell was now.

Elwyn was knocked back again. Jesus this thing may as well have a wall made of fire surround it. Its defense was solid. Up until it had to recharge, anyway. It bounded after Elwyn. It swiped at him. It singed his military coat, but he managed to deflect it with his tonfas. He saw Blake's Gambol Shroud charge at the Beowolf from behind in its kusarigama-pistol form, the wraps flinging around the Beowolf's neck as Gambol Shroud jettisoned itself back to Blake. She attempted to rein the Beowolf in. She was strong for her size, and she managed to slow it down, but she struggled. The red pulsing had dimmed, but he wasn't sure if its abilities were gone. Judging by the flame claws, they weren't, but he had to take the chance.

He primed a Blue Dust shell into his pilebunkers, before pulling both triggers. The Ice that appeared from the explosion surrounded the Beowolf's right side, from its upper body below the neck to its legs. It roared, trying to swipe at Elwyn with its free arm, but he managed to duck under that attack. Blake followed up, flipping over the Beowolf and pulling hard on her ribbons, causing it to lose balance as it tumbled forward. Elwyn retreated and primed another two Blue Dust bullets. Blake unhooked her ribbons from the Beowolf's neck and shot at it multiple times as she used it as a stepping stone to jump upwads, getting its attention long enough for Elwyn to go back in and fire off what he hoped was the Coup de Grace. More Ice encased the Beowolf's left side. It stopped in its tracks. Its entire body except the right side of its head was encased in ice.

They both waited a moment. Its red eyes seemingly stopped following them through its frozen state. Other than that, it kept quiet.

"You think that's enough?" He asked, approaching it. Blaked eyed the creature closely. This was how the military team handled it, right? It should hold.

There was a slight weight shift. Then a crack. Blake's sharp eyes and ears noticed it from where she was. Man did they jinx this a lot.

"Get back!" Blake used Gambol Shroud to latch onto Elwyn's coat and pull him to safety. The Beowolf roared, and another wave pulsated from it. It blew up a car and singed the ground in a sphere around it. The Beowolf looked at them with seething rage. It was tired of playing their game. The red lines around it however, have stopped pulsating. It was weak, some faint embers flicked around it. Its movements were a little sluggish. It probably felt the Ice from the Blue Dust taking a toll on it. It was still undeniably ferocious. A few moments after it was freed, it ran full speed at Elwyn, knocking him into a building. It roared at Blake as she tried to aid him. Elwyn scrambled away as the Beowolf rammed itself into the building wall, cracking it slightly. It was disoriented, but it was beginning to glow again. They had to stop it before it fully revved up.

The two of them regrouped.

"What now?" Elwyn looked at his ammo reserves. "One Blue Dust bullet left."

Blake paused and surveyed the area. The moment she laid her eyes on a large object in the distance, she smiled. "Found it."

"What?"

She pointed behind the Beowolf, on top of a building. It was a water tank. Elwyn smirked. "You're crazy," He primed some Red Dust. "Let's do it."

Blake dashed forward to the Beowolf and started attacking. The Beowolf was kept back for a moment, before swinging its powerful arms at her. She jumped over and taunted it. "Here, you mangy mutt, come on, who's an abomination of humanity?" She transformed Gambol Shroud and swung it while it fired, smacking the Beowolf multiple times. "You are!"

The Beowolf growled in annoyance as it trudged forward against Blake's onslaught. It was still a bit disoriented, but it was gaining ground, swiping and blocking against Blake's slashes and hits. She kept up with it, using hit and run tactics to lure it nearer to the building for their trap. The Beowolf redirected its powers to its claws. The glowing dimmed, but its ethereal claws were back. It was definitely getting desperate. As they got neared to the edge of the building, Elwyn was getting ready to jump.

He combined the two tonfas together by their rear-shafts, and it extended until it made a double-ended lance, barely taller than he was. He made a running start, before jumping and pulling a trigger on the newly-formed handle. The end of his Frigor Spica that was nearer to the ground shot a Red Dust bullet. It exploded and rocketed him upwards to the top of the building with the water-tower. He saw Blake down below as he sailed over the two of them. As he flew he primed another bullet.

Blake was flush against the wall of the building. She looked up and saw Elwyn land. She slid under the Beowolf and gave it a fierce kick on its back. It was more to propel herself than anything, as the Beowolf barely budged. It spun at her as she landed, but missed her by inches as the claw grazed her boot. She landed a ways away from the Beowolf.

"Now!" she shouted. His reply came in the form of an explosion that punched a hole through the water tank. Gallons if not tons of water rushed out the side of the tank, soaking the Beowolf and the immediate area around it. It struggled against the pressure of the water, roaring and snapping at Elwyn, its flame claws dissipating. Elwyn jumped again off the building, aiming one tip of his lance straight down at the Beowolf. The moment before he made contact, he fired his last bullet of Blue Dust. The Ice spread almost instantly along the body of the Beowolf until the ground where the tank-water had soaked. It spread up until the tank itself, freezing the remaining water. The resulting ice sculpture looked like a waterfall frozen in time.

As Elwyn flipped away to recover after he fired, and Blake came in for the Coup de Grace. With Gambol shroud at her side, she unsheathed its katana in one blindingly fast slashing motion. Elwyn could feel the force she generated from where he'd landed. In a moment, the frozen Beowolf was sliced in two, the frozen water coming from above falling down in icicles. Blake jumped back quickly, and stood by Elwyn's side.

"Well," he said, panting. "That was a nice workout."

"You looked like you were having fun jumping down from that building."

"What?" He paused. "Well, maybe a little."

They hadn't noticed a crowd had gathered around their little spectacle. They were too focused on the Beowolf that they hadn't noticed the civilians.

Elwyn eyed the people around them. "These people could've gotten hurt."

"Oh I'm sure we could have handled it, but it seems you two decided to handle it yourselves," A voice came up from behind them. They looked behind and saw a man with white hair and circular shades walking towards them with a cane in hand. He was one of the people in the small group. There was an air about him, something powerful but kept under wraps. Blake was surprised she couldn't sense him before he had appeared behind them. They looked at him cautiously, keeping their weapons up. You never know, right?

"Now now," he said, laughing a bit. "No need to be so defensive. I'm here as a friend," He adjusted his spectacles.

They spied other people behind the white-haired man: A beautiful blonde woman with a riding crop in her hand, looking at them with critical eyes, a tall, bear of a man with an odd weapon, literally a rifle tipped with the blades of a battle axe, taking interest in the remains of the Beowolf. There were a few more people, but the white-haired man coughed, and they looked at him attentively on instinct. He seemed to exude authority, yet contained a kind aura to it. This man was truly an enigma.

"My name is Professor Ozpin, I am the headmaster of Beacon Academy."

Both of their eyes grow wide. They look at each other quickly. Elwyn spoke first. "Elwyn Albion, I'm a citizen of Atlas, honorary member of the Atlasian military," He salutes. "This is my," he paused of the word. "partner, Blake Belladonna," she waved her hand awkwardly.

"Hello, Mr. Professor," she tried to fake a laugh.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "I see."

There was an awkward silence in the air. They didn't know if their little cover-up story would work on the man. A few moments passed before Ozpin spoke up again. "Your father contacted Beacon Academy not too long ago. We're surprised that the situation was dealt with even before we arrived."

They let out a breath they felt like they'd been holding in for minutes. Another figure rushed at them from behind the blonde woman and the others. It was Elwyn's father, Deakon. He ran to Elwyn's side and clapped him on the shoulder. "You alright, lad?"

"I'm fine dad," he said. He looked back to Ozpin, who adjusted his glasses before he spoke.

"Your son and his partner have exceptional talent, Mr. Albion."

Deakon looked at Blake, then back to Elwyn with a confused expression. He did a small signal with his head, inclining it slightly to the side. He was asking his father to play along. _Please._

Deakon looked back to Professor Ozpin. "They really do," he laughed heartily. This was so unlike him, Elwyn thought. Guess his dad could act when he needed to. "Little rascals, they are," he looked at Blake. "If they weren't in the military, I would've had them graduate from the Atlasian Academy and sent them to Beacon."

"About that, Mr. Albion," Ozpin started, a smile on his face. "From what I've seen, there's something I'd like to propose."

* * *

The morning after the incident, Elwyn, Blake, and Deakon arrived at the crash site of the Quezacoatl. The inside wasn't too banged up, it was mostly the hull. Well, that and the engines and the Dust Generator. Deakon grabbed a few important things, a photo of him and Elwyn, some tools from the main lab, the remains of the new pilelance. He turned to Elwyn and Blake. He'd kept up the act for the remained of the night when Ozpin asked the million dollar question.

He'd always known that Elwyn wanted to become a Hunter. Ever since he adopted the kid, all he could think about was the Grimm. It was an odd concept for the child to have, being able to understand the horrors of monsters that were supposed to be kept away as nothing but bedtime stories by their parents. But he was always a smart lad. Not the smartest, but his grades during the time at the Atlasian Academy truly shined in combat. It was a shame that he had to pull him out. The military pulled the plug on his scholarship. But now, that man Ozpin just offered to run him through the entire shebang, no charge.

_We need more people like your son, Mr. Albion. You tell me he's the one who told you to bring your transport here, despite the risks. You should be proud to have raised him to take the initiative like that._

Despite being adopted, the little rascal had grown on him. And he owed the boy's real father that much.

"Ozpin said the next Dustplane that leaves for Atlas soon. It'll take a while to get the papers done and ready for spare parts to be sent to the lab. I've already asked Mac to retrieve the remains of the Quezacoatl by tomorrow morning. I'm leaving you some money, and the school will provide you with a stipend…"

He went on for a while about getting enough sleep and eating properly. Elwyn tapped him on the shoulder. "I'll be fine, dad."

"I know you will be, kid, but," He glances over to Blake's direction. She's leaning against the entrance to the Quezacoatl, looking out. Elwyn managed to fake up a story on how Blake was just a probationary recruit, and how she was orphaned by the Grimm, and how Deakon was her legal guardian, which made them something like step-siblings, and it was up to him as well to decide whether or not Blake would be allowed to join Beacon as well, also on scholarship. Obviously he allowed it. He was pretty amazed at how his son managed to think of all that on the fly. _Honestly, _Deakon thought. _The kid might actually just be faking how bright he is._

"Look, she saved my life, alright?" Elwyn said. "Getting her into the Academy is the least I could do."

He let out a small laugh. He believed in mutual trade, so all was fair, in the end with Blake. "I'll keep in touch with you through the scroll they'll issue you. You do remember my contact info, right?"

"Yes dad," he chuckles. "Man, you were always like this even back in Atlas. You sound like a mother. It's different from how you treat me while we're working on military things."

"Well that's that and this is this," he claps him on the shoulder. "Can't blame a parent for worrying, alright?"

"I know, dad. I know. But I'm not a kid anymore."

He looks at Elwyn incredulously. "You'll always be a kid to me, kid."

"Fair enough." he sighs.

He watched as Elwyn walks out of the Quezacoatl with Blake behind him. The Dustplane going to Beacon would be leaving by the end of the week, and they had some things to fix before then. Their lodging was spoken for, courtesy once again of Mr. Ozpin, at a quaint little Inn somewhere in the city. As for him, he had to get ready for the next Dustplane going back to Atlas. He already told his superiors about Elwyn attending Beacon. They thought it was a good idea, so that Deakon could focus more on his work. He agreed slightly, but he would be lying if he didn't say it would get lonely in the lab. As he exited the Quezacoatl, Lucrea was waiting for him right outside.

"It was beyond my expectations, if I do say so myself, Dr. Albion," she said, with an air of familiarity.

"The experiment worked to what we predicted," Deakon said calmly, running a hand through his hair. "But it took two kids to put it down that easily."

"He's a nice kid, the girl too, but they're pretty gullible." She adjusts her hair. "They really believed that story with 'General Kalashnikov'."

"You can't blame them. It came from an adult's mouth." He motioned for her to follow him. "Bottom line is," Deakon started. "The Beowolf lost power too quickly. It also stopped obeying the signals that the collar was giving out at one point. Maybe if we tried to create something not so aggressive…"

She waved a hand in front of her dismissing the thought. "We just have to find a way to keep the thing going. We have the data, don't we?" she stopped for a moment. "I'm still surprised you allowed him into combat with Adam. Your kid could have died you know," she said, looking genuinely concerned.

"I told him not to go too hard on the boy," he started. "But from the looks of what he did to the D.I.P.S. perhaps he was too engrossed in it. I guess I should be thankful the girl defected, though it wasn't part of the plan. It worked out for the best." He sees the photo of himself with Elwyn. "This will all be worth it when we find a system that stabilizes the creature and we gain their absolute obedience," He looks at Lucrea. "I'm sorry for what happened to the other two."

She grimaced. "They knew the risks, though I would have preferred it if they didn't die so… brutally. But they knew the risks. All we can do now is to continue on. Have there been other cells successful with the experiment?"

"The south branch reported a Nevermore has been infused, but it will take some time to activate."

They arrived at the station platform. An inbound Dustplane could be seen. As it touched down, they boarded. It would take a while to recover from all of this, but they had time on their hands, and Elwyn would be safe in Beacon. They bought their tickets and sat down onto their respective rows. He made sure to hide the file that was in his hands behind all his other belongings. The title sounded a little childish, you never know. He glanced at it one last time.

'Project: Fairy Tale'

* * *

_**So I thought long and hard about where I wanted this to go.**_

_**So there you have it.**_

_**Sorry for the delay, school's nearing finals week and I had to pick up some slack.**_

_**Rest assured, I've got plans.**_

_**Also, something I edited because I like establishing things:**_

imgur dot com /kvbBJ9M

_**Aaaand a quick sketch of an early design of Elwyn. I've already got an updated sketch I haven't managed to upload yet.**_

imgur dot com /XPc6MMJ

_**Till next time errybadeh.**_


	5. Ch4: Red Like Mercy, Gold Like Glory

_**So I'm not dead yet. Cool. Last month was pretty bullcrap, because of school requirements and stuff. Here's an update though. Enjoy~**_

Chapter 4: Red Like Mercy, Gold Like Glory

A young girl, no older than 15, stood in front of a grave. Sunlight shone on it through the cracks and breaks in the tree branches. It was a small, simple grave, in the middle of a forest, just outside a little town called Patch. It was her hometown, and she spent most of her life there. Her red hood and cloak swayed in the nighttime breeze as she knelt down. The words on the gravestone were scratched out through years of wear and tear, but a single word could still be read from it.

Mother.

The girl took her hood in her hands and removed it from covering her head. She had dark red hair that framed her youthful face, and stormy gray eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, to no one in particular, or perhaps, hoping that someone would hear her.

"Hey, mom," she said. "Guess what? I'm heading to Beacon soon."

Dead silence.

"I know what you're thinking," she quickly added. " 'Ruby Rose, you're too young to be going to Beacon!', but they saw what I could do with all the training uncle Qrow gave me, and Yang'll be there to look after me, not that I couldn't look after myself, but the point is I won't be alone, and-"

The girl stammered on for a few minutes or so, talking about how she thwarted these Dust Burglars during their raid on a Dust Shop in town.

"Then there was this Huntress, Glynda Goodwitch, you might have known her! I dunno, anyway, she helped me out, then she detained me because I was being reckless or something. But then this guy named Ozpin, who was, get this, the headmaster of Beacon, bailed me out and told me I had the skill to get enrolled at Beacon on scholarship! Uncle Qrow was ecstatic," She laughed a bit. Echoing silence followed.

"The White Fang seem to be acting up again, but no biggie on that end so far. Oh, Yang beat up these hoodlums in a bar fight she told me about. She's really been feeling the big sister role lately, she asked me about a million times if I really wanted to go to Beacon, and obviously I said 'Of course I do, I want to be just like mom!' and eventually she let up."

She continued to talk to the grave just like this. She did this every so often, when she had time between her studies, combat training, and daily chores. She enjoyed it very much. She felt right at home talking to no one in particular here, in the silence of the forest. It felt serene and calming, starkly different from life in the town, which was noisy and fast-paced.

After about half an hour in recounting her adventures in school, including how she helped Yang smuggle some high-wire fireworks for the prom of the Seniors that year, she stood up and hugged the slab of stone. Other people would have probably found this odd or off putting, but Ruby didn't mind nor did she care. It was the closest she felt to her mother after she disappeared. They never told their family if she'd actually died. All they knew was that she disappeared during a mission against the White Fang. But thus far they haven't seen hide nor hair of her, which led to her family creating this symbolic gravesite. Maybe, she always thought, if she were alive somewhere, she would hear her. Or even if she really was gone, she would hear her too.

She was just fifteen, but she had good understanding on how the world worked. It wasn't a fairy tale or a bed time story where the good guys always had good endings and everything lived happily ever after. Still, this hasn't stopped her from being a bright ray of optimism for both her friends and her family. She let go of the gravestone, and stood up. She heard growling behind her.

"Well you guys are earlier than normal," She said to her encroaching assailants, smiling and reaching for a weapon slung to her belt.

Ruby Rose looked at her pride and joy, Crescent Rose. It was a complicated weapon, a farmer's tool combined with a high-caliber sniper rifle powerful enough to propel its user forward whenever the user fired a bullet. A few years ago, when she first crafted it, she had no idea how to use it. She made it on a whim and a prayer, hoping that she could become like her uncle Qrow, a famous and extremely skilled Hunter. Now, however, after being put through her uncle's boot-camp like training, she used it as easily as her sister Yang brawled with her shot-gauntlets. It became an extension of her very being, and she used it as she would a knife or fork at a dinner table. She lived for the fight. And she enjoyed it.

It was her dream to become a Huntress one day. For a girl who stood at five foot two, this seemed impossible. But the life of a Hunter-Huntress was never limited to one's stature. Shiki the Knife-Edge was a tall, lanky fellow, who had twenty three Nevermore kills under his belt. Arthura Sabledragon was a humble, lithe, Faunus-Woman of five feet in height that single-handedly fended off not less than twenty Beowolves at the Battle of Mistral Border. There were many more, like Marty the Midget Mauler, Kunlun the Shadowdancer, Loony Larry Larper. The point was that it was their heart and their hard-work that led people to sing of their glorious battles. She dreamt that one day, maybe she would be one of them, even if this seemed unrealistic. She was a ray of hope and sunshine, after all.

She dashed forward and slashed at a Beowolf in front of her. Its powerful claws tried to swipe at her but were quickly detached from its arms. She fired Crescent Rose behind her and used the momentum to jump up, decapitating her target as she swiftly flew over it. She looked back and saw the three other Beowolves charging at her. They were powerfully built, at around seven feet each, but thankfully they weren't too bright. She jumped on one, sank Crescent Rose's blade into another's shoulder, and let a bullet loose into the other one's heart, blowing it back and killing it instantly. As she fell, the Beowolf she jumped over swiped at her, and she jumped out of the way. The Beowolf's swipe decapitated its comrade, and its body fell limp. The remaining Beowolf roared at Ruby. If there was one thing she 'admired' about the Grimm, it was that they hunted in packs, or 'families'. They always took offense whenever one of them fell, the remaining ones getting more and more aggressive as they tried to avenge their comrades. This one was no different. Its mouth foamed, and its eyes looked at her with utter hatred.

Or perhaps, this was her way of thinking affecting her outlook on the Grimm. Maybe they didn't think that way at all. But it was a feeling she liked to keep, and the image stayed with her. She lived for the fight, but she took no joy in murdering these 'families', except if they threatened her or her friends. On the off times they met her randomly like this, she felt sorry for them. But it had to be done.

Off with its head, as they say.

The last Grimm's body crumpled to the ground. She sheathed Crescent Rose and looked back. She shook her head. "If only you left me alone."

She walked through the woods alone, going the long road home. The forest outside Patch was thick and heavy with old, tall trees, many of which have stood since before Humans or Faunus started creating settlements. She liked people, but she also liked her alone time. The forest was so nostalgic for some reason. Like a little red riding hood looking for adventure. She also found it a little charming that such a wild, untamed frontier found itself right beside of a bustling industrial community. She came across a fork in the road. Left always went back to her Uncle's house in the city. She was always told that the path right never really went anywhere. Yang said it was nothing but more trees and more Grimm down that road, much more than the two of them would be able to handle.

Ruby was confident in her abilities. She could take on three to five Beowolf without much trouble. But then she's always had a fear of being overrun by Grimm. Death was always a thought whenever she fought. It kept her sharp and on her toes, an important state of mind when fighting the Grimm. Still, she was always a thrill seeker. But maybe today wasn't that day to try and go on a suicidal adventure the likes no Huntress had ever seen before.

She decided against going through the right fork this time.

For now.

She trudged through the quietness of the forest for as long as the path lasted. It was just about noon on a lazy Saturday. Their Dustplane headed towards Vale and Beacon academy would be here soon. It was about time to get things ready with Yang. As she exited the forest, she gazed at the dirt road that eventually lead up to industrial-grade asphalt. It was a little bit down the road from her Uncle's house, which was a ten minute walk away from Patch's central hub in town. They lived in a quaint little hovel, a simple two story building. She went up the steps on their front porch and knocked on the door. Nothing replied except the barking of a creature inside.

"Zwei?" she called out. More barking answered her. "C'mon boy, open the door."

She heard a click and a slide from the inside. She turned the knob on the door and pushed to open it. A black and white figure assaulted her as soon as she got inside; a slimy, drool-ridden tongue forced itself onto her face, followed by happy panting and mewling as she carried its weight on her. She giggled as she tried to get the creature off of her. "Hey, stop that! C'mon, quit it!" She laughed.

Zwei removed himself and barked happily as he circled Ruby. She knelt down and pet the little black and white dog. He obliged by nuzzling his head against her hand. "Good boy."

She went straight to the kitchen and for the fridge. There was a note left on its door handle, signed by her uncle, Qrow.

"_Dear Ruby and Yang, I'll be out for another mission for a while. Make sure you buy everything you need for school. Tell Yang to go home early for the week to rest up for the trip. Be careful on your way to Beacon, I'll be contacting you when you two get there. Much love, Uncle Qrow."_

She opened the fridge and saw ready-made, microwaveable sandwiches. She took one and popped it into the oven. Zwei looked expectantly at his food bowl. He looked at her with pleading eyes.

"Alright alright. Can't believe Yang forgot to leave you some food again."

She took some of Zwei's food from the cupboard and poured a mountain of it on his bowl. To say he looked delighted would be an understatement. She took her own food from the microwave and started taking small bites. She did a mental checklist as she went upstairs to take a shower from her venture in the forest. She was about to jump into the bathroom, when she saw her older sister Yang sprawled on her bed, her room door slightly ajar. Her wild, fluffy, cloud-like blonde hair was sprawled around her like her own personal pillow, and she was in the most unlady-like position you could ever imagine while she slept.

"No wonder she didn't feed Zwei…"

Her sister Yang was a very active gal. Other than taking vigilante justice to the streets, when she wasn't being a blonde heroine of the night she was always keeping herself in shape, constantly going on nightly jogs and the gym. Despite her flirty nature and stunning good looks, she was a hard worker, who occasionally enjoyed going to clubs for a dance or two. She was everything Ruby saw as a role model and Yang always tried hard to keep up her image with her little sister. She was sleeping off last night's gang-bust, she caught a bunch of Dust smugglers trying to pedal shipments of Schnee dust company brand products through the sewers. She burned her clothes the night before. The stench was revolting.

Ruby shrugged and went on to take that bath. Afterwards she woke Yang up for brunch.

"Bwuh…?" Yang groaned as she opened, her lilac eyes starting to focus on her surroundings.

"Wake up sleepy-head, Uncle Qrow's on a mission. We've got to buy our stuff for Beacon soon."

"Fi mer minits…" Yang muttered. She yelped as Zwei jumped on the bed and started licking her face. As much as she loved Zwei, she didn't want to smell like dog slobber in the morning.

"Alright alright, I'm up…!" she exclaimed as she sat up. There was a trail of drool at the side of her mouth, as she rubbed her eyes free of sleepiness. Zwei sat on the side of her bed, sitting down like a good boy and wagging his tail like he just had too much Goody Bites.

"It's almost lunch time you know," Ruby said. Yang groaned in reply as she got a change of clothes from the closet and a towel. She was wearing a modest tank top with pink pajamas. Despite that, Ruby could still see how developed her sister was. She silently hoped she'd grow up to be like that one day too.

As Yang got into the bathroom, Ruby went to her room to pack some things. She'd started already for the past few days, bringing the things they were told to bring. Extra clothes, mostly. Crescent Rose would always be at her side, so no need to place that in the bag, she thought. After placing her sixth favorite red hood and cloak in one of the bags, she heard the bathroom door open. Yang was out and looking fresher than ever, her golden hair bouncing around fluffily as she waltzed out of the bathroom, dumping her dirty laundry in a hamper. She was never a morning person until after she took a bath. Ms. Grumpy Wumpy becomes a ray of sunshine the moment she gets out of the bathroom. She walks inside Ruby's room and looks around at the bags she has laid out.

"Rubes, are you packing just your cloaks again?"

"You can never have too many cloaks!" she retorted immediately. Yang sighed. Even though Ruby was an amazing fighter, she still had the same childish, dorky personality. She didn't mind in the slightest, Yang loved her little sister to bits. She grabbed Ruby by the scruff of her cloak and dragged her out of the room.

"H-hey Yang wait, where are we going!?"

"We have to find you new things to wear, Rubes. You're going to be attending one of the most prestigious Huntsman-Huntress schools in existence."

"But I like my cloak! Zwei, some help here?"

Zwei looked at the two of them as they exited the house, yelping once, before chasing his tail, and lying down. "Thanks buddy. Real good to know you've got my back."

Yang planted Ruby outside their house and locked the door. In a few minutes, she came back outside with her usual outfit, her signature blouse with a yellow tank top underneath, and her combat shorts with those frilly things at the side. Ruby never got what they were for, but she was one to talk for wearing her cloak all the time. Yang grabbed her orange scarf from a rack and closed the door to their house again.

"Alright then, time to go shopping!"

"Ugh…"

Yang was always ahead of Ruby when it came to things like fashion. Or boys. Or Algebra. Anything really, Ruby was only 15. As the 17 year-old older sister, Yang found it in Ruby's best interest to be guided by her. She was a smart one, but she could be pretty naïve. Like her notions about the Grimm having a family. Yang always thought it was a child's fantasy, but who was she to judge? Ruby can handle herself in a fight in any case, so instead of things like that, Yang tried to guide her with things that normal girls had to deal with, like fashion, and maybe when she was a bit older, boys. But not right now. Yang swore that if a boy would try and take her little sis away she would beat the crap out of them. She laughed at the thought.

For a while they went passed multiple clothing stores, trying things on, this and that. Pajamas, dresses, shoes, the works. She bought Ruby a nice black and red dress for special occasions.

"When am I ever going to use this?" Ruby groaned.

"You never know, Rubes," Yang reassured her.

After the spree she realized Ruby really wouldn't give up her cloak and outfit for anything else. For now at least. She was young and interested in things like weapons and technology. Not that Yang wasn't a closet lover of it herself, Ember Celica, her shot gauntlets, were her babies after all, but she had to keep appearances up. As they headed back home, a young blonde man crossed their path, asking where he could get some lunch. He looked foreign, wearing a simple white shirt and baggy, brown pants which had a sword and shield strapped to it. Other than that he was hauling a duffel bag over his shoulder. Yang thought the guy was flirting with them, not that he wasn't good looking, she'd give him an 7.5… or maybe an 8. Or 7.75?

She gave him the benefit of the doubt. Before Yang could speak up, Ruby, ever the innocent, told him right away to go in the direction of Barney's Bagel Sandwicheria. To Yang's surprise, the guy thanked them and bolted off in the said direction.

"I thought he was flirting with us," Yang admitted as they walked back in the direction of their house.

"Why do you think every boy we come across is trying to flirt with us?" Ruby asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yang shrugged. "Usually the case. Too bad though, I thought you two would have been cute together."

"Ew, stop that, boys are your territory, Yang."

"You say that now, little sis. You say that now."

* * *

It was still morning when the Dustplane arrived. He wobbled out of the Dustplane slowly. He easily got airsick on long flights. That's why he always closed his eyes and took a tablet of Migraine-Be-Gone-s before each flight. Kind of pathetic, considering he was going to be enrolling in Vale soon, the world's most prestigious School of Combat for Young Hunstmen and Huntresses. He tried to remember through the upchuck that he desperately tried to keep down where he'd landed. Right, the town of Patch, located on a small island off the coast of Vale. Nothing of note, except that it also had the Signal Academy of Combat.

His parents have always believed in him. His father was the famous Jaque Arc, high class Huntsman, one of the heroes of the Menagerie Conflict. That was a story that he kept with him during his childhood, the story that shaped his ideals and his obsession to become a hero like his father. He reminisced about it for a bit, finding no other way to get his mind off the vomit about to assail the outside world.

"_Jaune, you know what happened during that war, correct?" _

As a child, he'd always look up at his father with his big, hopeful blue eyes. _"It's when you kicked the butts of those evil Faunus right?" _

At that point his father reprimanded him. _"No Jaune, the Faunus weren't evil. The Huntsmen were there as neutral emissaries of peace. We were the bridge to both the Humans and the Faunus. Remember Jaune, there is evil in all races. But there is also good._ _You'd best remember that."_

"_Okay, dad," _he replied. _"So what did happen, exactly?" _

His father went over to him and ruffled his scruffy blonde hair. As he tucked Jaune in bed, he continued with his tale. _"The Faunus were being forced into the Menagerie, Jaune. That means Humanity was trying to imprison them in one part of the world." _

"_Why were we doing that, dad?" _

"_The other Humans were… afraid of Faunus. They were a better, more evolved race, that we still don't understand. And Humans fear what they do not know. So they try to remove themselves from it, and pretend the problem doesn't even exist." _

"_That's horrible!" _

"_Indeed it is. That's why the Huntsmen were there to try and figure out a truce. But tensions rose, and eventually, war became inevitable." _

He went on to tell Jaune of all the heroics that he and his squad did. Not only them, but also Faunus, Humans, and everyone who were on opposite sides that were trying to help reduce the damage the war would cause. The Menagerie Conflict would last three years, before finally a truce for the equality of the Faunus was achieved.

"_But even now, Faunus are still being discriminated against."_

"_That's not fair. I'll never discriminate against them, they were brave to stand up for their freedom. When I become a Huntsman, I'll stand up for them, and everyone who fights for what's right!" _

His father smiled. He was a child, and could be so cliché and naïve, but his heart was always in the right place. He'd only hope that this wouldn't change as he grew older. _"That's my boy." _

And change Jaune Arc did not. He kept his ideals with him up to the present. He was now a capable 17 year-old on his way to becoming a Huntsman. At least, that's what he set out to do. The details of getting there… wouldn't need to be addressed unless needed. As he finally calmed down and got off the Dust-Plane, his armor felt heavier than usual on his shoulders. It must've been the fatigue, he thought.

_Or what you did to get into Beacon._

He heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked towards what looked like the main hub of the city. Patch looked quiet and amicable. He saw a few shops, the usual, weapons, armor, items, and of course, Dust. One of them had a broken window, and as curious as he was, he couldn't afford to dilly dally. He was looking for the inn he would be staying at until the Dust-Plane to Beacon arrived and took the students to the academy. The semester started in a few days, so he could at least get some rest before then. He found himself looking at a store mirror as he tried to find his way to the inn. He was wearing nothing but a simple white shirt and tattered brown cargo pants. He felt around his waist for his sword and shield, Crocea Mors. It was a simple set of weapons, a shield that acted as a sheathe and extended into a full kite-shield, and a long sword of simple, almost antique design. It had been handed down to him from his father and his father and his father before him. His dad said he'd be able to find another weapon in the meantime. He had a feeling his dad just wanted to get rid of the old thing. It wasn't by far anything special at all, not like the newer, fancier mechanisms the new weapons used. Scythes that turned into guns, Gauntlets that also fired shotgun shells. He'd seen a catalogue of many different weapons that it pretty much made his sword and board feel like he was back in the Old War.

Not that Crocea Mors hadn't served him well. On the way to the Dust-Plane landing strip from his village he had to fight his way through a few Beowolfs. Not anything too difficult. They were travelling in a group, some of them dropped by his village for supplies, others were patrolling Huntsmen, seeing the sights. He didn't do much on his own. He wasn't actually a very good fighter. He did manage to take one out. After it almost tore his head off. And that one Huntsman, with white hair and a green suit, kind of saved him anyway. Nice guy, that one.

_Some Hero I am. _

He forgot what that Huntsman was there for. He was also headed to Patch. He mentioned he'd already been there several days earlier, but he had some more patrols to finish. He didn't see him on the way down. He whispered a silent thank you to the wind.

_That's why I want to become a Huntsman. So I can get stronger. Just like dad…_

Patch was a small town, but it still took all his attention to not get lost. The inn was somewhere near the central district, several blocks away from the airport. If he had to look for it, the earlier the better. He followed the sidewalk of one of the roads. He'd already passed several shops, but he didn't think to ask the locals about the inn. He wanted to see if he could find it for himself. It was early morning when he arrived. By the time he almost gave it was quite a bit after lunch time. He was getting hungry. He asked two local girls he passed by where he could get a snack. He thought they might have shrugged him off, being an outsider and all, but luckily the two of them seemed nice enough. The smaller one, who wore a red cloak, pointed in one direction. The taller, blonde one nodded. Leaving after saying his thank-yous, he found a small stall that sold delicious looking bagel sandwich things. He bought some and scarfed it down. He looked at the shopkeeper and asked about the inn. The shopkeep was a nice enough man, like the two local girls earlier, and gave him directions.

"That's a pretty run-down part of the city lad, if you go there, be careful."

"Will do, thanks again."

Jaune left a tip before he hurried off. He was itching for a break. He got to the part of the city the shopkeep was talking about. Other than a few scratched out paint jobs on the buildings, the place didn't seem too bad.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard some shouting in the alleyway. It sounded like someone was in trouble.

"Is it any of my business…?" He asked himself. He shook his head. "Of course it is, you idiot."

He went through the alley quickly. The voice was near. He bounded as fast as his feet could carry him, through some garbage dumpsters and over a bunch of horrible smelling black trash bags that was definitely filled with rotting… something. As he passed several concrete walls some action caught his attention at the corner of his left eye. He spun on his heel and looked to the source of the shouting. A Faunus girl had her back against the wall against two thug-looking things.

"Please, I have to go…" she said in almost a whisper. There was a distinct accent to her voice. Looking at her properly, she was a Rabbit Faunus. Her rabbit ears, slightly drooping, twitched around. The two other figures, a man and a woman, left her almost no room to move. One was a Bull Faunus, the male with an above average muscular stature, and the other a Sheep Faunus, the woman, slightly shorter than the Bull Faunus, who looked lean and athletic.

"You're one of those Beacon students aren't ya?" the Sheep Girl growled. She had a sparking baton in one hand.

"An informant told me about her. Name's Velvet Scarlatina," the Bull Man said to the Rabbit Girl. "Come on now, we don't want to hurt you, we just want to talk." He reached out for her, but Velvet swatted his hand away. His other hand had an armored gauntlet on it. The move was slight, but Jaune recognized it. He was preparing to rear back his fist.

"You're one of those White Fang recruiters, aren't you?" Velvet said, her eyes defiant. The silence that followed was an affirmation more than anything else.

Jaune hid behind a trash can quietly. He dropped his duffel bag in case of anything happening. _The White Fang? Here, in Patch? _

"Then you know about our cause. My name's Mortar. The Sheep over there is Ylith," The Bull said. "You know that the White Fang are trying to help our race out."

"Your radical methods," Velvet started. "Aren't helping the Faunus at all. I'm not interested. If you'll excuse me…"

Velvet brushed past the two of them. The moment she was a few steps away the Sheep raised her baton high. Jaune rushed forward, unsheathing Crocea Mors, extending it into a full kite-shield, the longsword still inside. As he bolted forward he saw that the Faunus named Mortar coming at him. The Bull rushed him, and punted him right into a wall. The wind was knocked right out of him. He went over and kicked at Jaune, who he blocked with his shield, sending him a ways back again. "You really think we couldn't hear you rustling over here, _human?_"

The word was filled with derision and contempt. There were many Faunus who were on the fence about Humans. The same could be said about Humans as well. Even after all of the wars, contempt and hatred swept the kingdoms. There was no peace to be had. Even the treaty that Humanity had signed so that the Faunus wouldn't need to be forced into Menagerie was done in hesitation. Neither side fully trusted the other, after all. Not until recently, were these sentiments made public again, all due to the White Fang.

But even with all of the tension, there are a few good people who try to make amends to the past, even if their actions were nothing but small ripples in a large pond. Jaune always tried to be one of them. Ever since his father told him that story, he told himself that he would fight for the rights of all the races of Remnant. It was childish. Maybe even foolish. But he didn't care. He went through all this trouble of getting into Beacon to become a hero, and he'll be damned before something like street thugs stop him.

He got up slowly and readied his weapons. "The girl said she doesn't want to go with you. Let her go."

The Bull spat in his direction. "Keep out of business that ain't yours."

"I'm a Huntsman. This _is _my business."

The Bull eyed him from head to toe, then laughed. "You don't look like much. Must be a scrapling. Don't worry kid, I'll just knock you out," He cracked his knuckles. "But I'll make sure it hurts."

Jaune braced himself as his opponent went charging at him. _Just remember your training. End it quickly. No need to get fancy. _He quickly sidestepped and brought his shield to bear. He smashed it against the Mortar's head, but instead of a head on collision, it caught the horns. The shield reverberated loudly. It felt like hitting a stone wall. Mortar grabbed his shield and threw him along with it into another wall. He staggered to recover, back in a stance.

"Now you got my ears ringing…" Mortar growled. He spotted Jaune's longsword still sheathed. "Why don't you use your sword, kid? A blade like that would've worked better than your dinky shield."

Jaune grimaced. "I'm not trying to hurt you, I just want you to back off."

"Too late for that pipsqueak!" he charged at Jaune again. This time Jaune jumped over and smashed his shield down. It hit the broad of Mortar's back and sent him horns-first into the wall. Jaune fumbled the landing a bit but quickly regained his balance. Mortar tore himself off the wall. Some of the concrete was still attached to his head. It was slightly terrifying, because now he was charging at Jaune with the concrete still attached to his horns. "YOU'RE STARTING TO PISS ME OFF."

As Mortar began to charge at him again, he braced himself with his shield in front of him. He charged forward, matching the Mortar's stride. They collided, the concrete pushing in hard on Mortar's horns and smashing into his skull. He was knocked out cold on the spot. Jaune flew backwards from the impact. He was flat on his back, and he was sure his shoulder got dislocated. He got up on his good arm and looked around. The girl named Velvet was standing over the Ylith girl. The latter looked just as knocked out as her friend. Velvet saw Jaune getting up and jogged to his side.

"That was brave of you. Thank you," she smiled. It melted his heart a bit. "But I could have handled it."

"It was my pleasure to help such a charming woman like you, milady," he said on instinct as he bowed. The concept of being in a relationship with a woman was not an abstract one to him. His father always told him if he wanted a girl to like him he had to glow with confidence, while his mother always said to respect women, and don't be too intrusive. In some weird parallel universe he'd probably go overboard with it, but over the years he seems to have found a good stopping point. Velvet smiled.

"Easy there, hon. We've only just met."

Jaune obliged. "Sorry."

"It's alright. You say you're a Huntsman?"

Jaune smiled sheepishly. "Well, getting there. I'm enrolling in Beacon this year," he extended his hand. "Jaune. Jaune Arc."

Velvet's eyes lit up. "Oh that's wonderful! You'll love it there. I'm a second-year this year, you know ," she takes his hand and shakes it. "I'm Velvet. Velvet Scarlatina."

Jaune sputters upon realization that the woman he just flirted with was his senior. "I-I'm sorry for flirting with you earlier, I d-didn't know," he stammers. Well, there goes his confidence.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist hon, I thought it was sweet," she laughed. That accent was endearing. She probably found him entertaining now though, Jaune thought. He looked at the unconscious bodies of the two White Fang members.

"Don't worry your cute little tush over these two hon, I'll make sure they're reported to the proper authorities."

_Cute little tush? _He unconsciously patted his behind. Now that he looked at her properly, Velvet was a lot more athletically-built than he first realized. She looked small, but he sensed a power within her. Was it that thing that his father could unleash whenever he fought the Grimm? A warm, but powerful light…

He shook his head and nodded. "Alright then. Nice meeting you, Ms. Velvet."

She smiled again. "Just 'Velvet' is fine, Jaune."

They waved their goodbyes, and as he was leaving Jaune saw Velvet using her scroll to call up the police, he assumed. He picked up his duffel bag on the way back to the main road. With that little adventure out of the way he couldn't help but feel a little better about himself, and the trip. Maybe he had what it took to be a hero. Maybe going to those lengths to get into Beacon would be worth it. No use regretting it now, he thought.

In a few days, he would officially become a student at Beacon Academy.


End file.
